Impossible Love
by ViolaPearl
Summary: It's 2006 and Lara is returning to Hogwarts as Head Girl. She thought her biggest problem this year would be coping with the arrogant Slytherin Head Boy - Jamie Burke. Instead she's faced with a much bigger, almost impossible, problem: her feelings for the newest Hogwarts professor, Neville Longbottom.
1. Chapter 1

**_Impossible Love_**

Author note - this is set in the 2006/07 school year. It features some familiar faces from J.K Rowling's masterful novels, but it is more original in content and characters. I'm basically having fun with the world J.K Rowling built. Hope you enjoy it.

 **Chapter 1 – Back to Hogwarts**

Lara Hepworth glanced at her reflection in the passenger seat mirror of her mum's Peugeot. Today was the day she had been waiting for, and she'd made sure to get up early to look the part. After all, there hadn't been a Hufflepuff Head Girl in who knew how long, and she was determined to do her house proud. Ever since Professor McGonagall's letter arrived confirming her appointment, Lara had anticipated the approaching school year with a nervous excitement, not unlike a child at Christmas time.

 _There is one benefit of being a Muggle-born_ , she thought to herself. _I have a much better grasp of how to apply liquid eyeliner._

Lara was just slightly taller than your average 17-year-old girl and significantly curvier. Her hair was a dark chocolate brown and hung down to her shoulders with a natural wave to it. This messy waviness was something she despised when she was younger and every witch wanted poker-straight hair, but now she had learnt to live with it. Her hazel eyes were filled with eagerness as she leaned across the handbrake to give her mum a kiss.

"I've got to go now, mum. I need to be on the platform ready to give the prefects their instructions."

Joy, her mum, mock-scowled at her in response.

"But sweetie, this is the last time you're going off to Hogwarts. Can't I just come and see you off one last time?" she pleaded.

Lara shot her mother a look that said it all.

"No, mother, really you can't. Besides where are you going to park the car?" she questioned gently. "It's fine, really. I'm practically an adult now, and I'm more than capable of walking through a station and getting on the train."

"Ok, ok, if you insist," said Joy with an air of resignation, "I'll let you go now."

Lara stepped out of the car into the breezy September air. The sounds of central London bustled in the background, and Muggles hurried along the pavements, oblivious to the gathering of wizards and witches that was about to take place. She was dressed smartly in a denim skirt and light blue blazer, but not yet in her Hogwarts uniform.

"Oh and Lara," her mum called from inside the car. "I'm so proud of you, you know."

Smiling, Lara ducked her head down under the car door.

"I know, mum. Thanks for giving me a lift down. I'll write as soon as I can."

Gathering up her suitcase and mustard leather satchel, Lara weaved through the crowds in the station and walked briskly towards the barrier between platforms 9 and 10. She disappeared effortlessly through the barrier, without attracting a second glance from the busy commuters who filled the station.

Mercifully, platform 9 and 3 quarters was still quiet and Lara found James Burke, this year's Head Boy, waiting for her.

James, or Jamie as most of Hogwarts knew him, took an admiring glance at Lara's figure and smiled to himself.

"Well, well, well, the Queen of Hufflepuff has finally decided to join me to begin her duties. Seriously Hepworth, you're late. And I'm not impressed." James folded his arms as if to display his frustration.

Lara rolled her eyes. "Well, in that case _Jamie_ , it's rather a good job I don't care about impressing you," she retorted with a smirk.

Jamie Burke's athletic frame loomed over Lara, in an attempted display of masculine dominance. His 6ft height was aided by a set of broad shoulders acquired through numerous hours of Quidditch practice no doubt. Eyes locked on Lara's, Jamie reached down and tugged her suitcase out of her hands.

"I'll take that, your Highness," he said softly and swung it away from her. "You take the platform and I'll head to the Prefects' Carriage?"

Lara raised her eyebrows expectantly. "Any particular reason for that? Nothing to do with scoping out the new female prefects, would it?"

Jamie's mouth opened in confusion.

"Err, of course not. No. When have I ever …?" he stuttered and then laughed, clearly fooling no one. "Well, you're better dealing with the parents than I am … especially the Muggles ones. So it's win-win."

And before Lara could protest any further, Jamie jogged down the platform with her suitcase, leaving her behind to organise the ensuing chaos.

The Muggle-born is better at dealing with the Muggles? Bloody typical Jamie Burke.

Half an hour later and a blur of parents' worried questions, lost pets and loudly reunited friends, Lara stepped onto the Hogwarts Express slightly frazzled but satisfied that she'd made a good start to her final year.

The whistle of the train sounded as the wheels slowly began to turn, pulling away from Kings Cross and towards the new school year.

Gazing out of the window as the urban sights of London began to fade behind them, Lara was dreamily contemplating the future. Before finding out about her magical abilities, Lara had loved history and had dreams of being an archaeologist. Now that she had 6 years of magical education behind her, she couldn't wait for more hands on magical history.

"Shhhh Charity, there's a random Professor in that compartment! We'll have to go back and sit with Henry," giggled a third-year Gryffindor as she brushed past Lara.

With a curious glance to where the girls had just come from, Lara decided not to investigate instead turned towards the other end of the train, her Head Girl duties, and the awaiting prefects.

"Oh, hello," a deep voice sounded out from behind her.

Lara turned to face the voice and was stunned. The 'random Professor' was more than a little attractive. Tall with dark hair pushed back off his face and a healthy dose of stubble, he wore dark blue jeans, a casual white shirt and a grey wool cardigan with the sleeves rolled up. On anyone else, the cardigan would have looked like something borrowed off their grandfather, but here Lara couldn't help but think he looked like a resplendent God of knitwear. His blue eyes crinkled up at the corners as he smiled and held out his hand by way of an introduction.

"I'm Neville, well Nev to my friends," he explained as he grasped Lara's hand and shook it. "Minerva didn't mention that there'd be another teacher on the train. You can come and sit in here if you'd like?" he gestured to the compartment behind him. "I've just managed to clear off a couple of giggling girls, so would appreciate the company."

Lara stepped almost involuntarily into the carriage. He thought she was another teacher, and she thought he was divine. For once in her life she was rendered speechless and sunk into the seat opposite him; her eyes fixed on her hand that had just been released from Neville's grip.

"So … you are?" he inquired patiently.

Lara blushed and looked up from underneath her lashes. She really needed to pull herself together, fast.

"I'm Lara, Lara Hepworth," she answered with a flicker of a smile. "Are you taking over from Professor Spr-Pomona, then?"

Neville's eyes lit up as he enthused about Herbology; a subject that Lara had never really found interesting until now.

"… so it wasn't until I was in about fourth-year that I really started to think about Herbology seriously. That was the year they held the Goblet of Fire here. Oh but I'll bet you remember the tournament anyway? What House were you in? We probably have some friends in common."

Neville had talked for a good few minutes without seeming to come up for air. Whether it was through nervousness or supreme confidence, Lara couldn't tell but was startled at the pause and Neville's waiting expression.

"I'm in Hufflepuff. I mean, I was a Hufflepuff," she hurriedly corrected herself.

 _Why am I lying to him? It's not like he won't find out the moment I step off the train and into my Hogwarts robes. Get a grip, seriously._

"Sorry Neville, err Nev, if you'll just excuse me. I need to go, somewhere. Errm I'll be back, soon."

Lara stood up and stumbled as the normally smooth train went over a particularly bumpy piece of track. Reacting swiftly, Neville was quick to catch both her arms and steady her. He was close enough to feel her heartbeat racing and seemed to hold on a fraction longer than he needed to.

"Don't be too long, eh," he joked. "The giggling school girls might come back."

Lara shut the compartment door behind her and walked down the carriage, before stopping and holding her hand to her mouth. _Shit. What am I doing?_ Letting out a nervous laugh (not unlike that of a giggling school girl), she carried on walking down the train, stopping silly behaviour (of which there was an abundance) when she saw it.

A blonde ponytailed head popped out of one of the compartments ahead and glanced to the right and then left down the corridor. Upon seeing Lara, the girl let out an excited shriek and bounded down the corridor.

"Where have you been?!" she shouted as she hugged her tightly. "I mean it though, spill. I've had Burke in here twice looking for you. He did not look happy last time he left. Grumbling something about irresponsible leadership and never trusting a Hufflepuff?"

Hestia was small and pixie-like in her proportions, but her diminutive size was more than made up by her loud personality and sharp grasp of defensive spells.

"Ahhh bollocks," Lara replied sheepishly, looking at her best friend. "Look, I'll tell you later, I promise. I best find him before he sets a bludger on me."

The prefects' carriage was the very first one on the train and was a hive of activity with prefects coming and going to patrol the corridors. Once inside, Lara was greeted by a chorus of hellos, congratulations and even cheers as well as a few warnings that Jamie didn't seem happy when they'd last seen him.

"Our illustrious Head Girl returns," came a sarcastic voice behind Lara.

She turned round to face a red-faced, and slightly panting, Jamie Burke, wand out.

"Jamie," she replied in a sing-song voice. "Do you plan on hexing me with that?"

"What?" his eyes followed hers down to his wand. "Oh … no of course not. Where have you bee-"

"Where have I been? Well someone left me on the platform to deal with the parents. Meaning I got on at the end of the train, have dealt with students all the way up and entertained a professor too."

"A professor?" James queried. "Who is it? I didn't think there were any on the train this year."

Lara was sure she could feel herself blushing, again. Why on earth did she have to mention her encounter?

"Oh err, I didn't actually get his surname," Lara answered hurriedly, not noticing Jamie's eyes narrow when she said 'his'. "He's the new Herbology teacher though."

Jamie looked at her sceptically as if trying to figure out whether she was lying to him.

"Hmm, well I'd better make my way over there at some point. If he's met the Head Girl, then it's only right I introduce myself too," he stated with easy confidence. "I'm going to head up to see the lads for a bit … 'bout time you did some work, isn't it?" Jamie said with a chuckle.

Lara parodied an army salute at him and watched his swaggering walk out of the carriage. He might be a Slytherin and have an outwardly arrogant attitude, but Lara knew he wasn't all that bad. And so did McGonagall, she thought … otherwise why pick him as Head Boy?

Since the war ended 8 years ago, some things had changed at Hogwarts undoubtedly, but others remained resolutely the same. The Slytherin superiority complex was definitely still present, even if inter-House relations had softened significantly since the school days of the saviour of the wizarding world, Harry Potter.

After hours of managing the team of prefects alone, Lara's frustration with Jamie's continued absence reached its peak.

"Right, I'm off to find Burke," she announced sternly. "You'll need to start telling everyone to get changed into their uniform in about 20 minutes, ok?"

The prefects left in the carriage nodded their assent, and Lara left them to it. She wanted to find Jamie of course, but she needed to speak to Neville and clarify a few things … before it was too late. She wasn't taking Herbology at N.E.W.T level, yet somehow she suspected he might notice her absence in the staffroom and penchant for wearing school uniform and a Head Girl badge.

Lara flicked her hair back, finding that its tangled waves had caught on her badge, obscuring it from view. Well that goes some way to explain why he didn't realise she was in fact a student. Extricating her badge from the clutches of her hair, Lara made her way down the train to face Neville. She both desired to see him again, yet she dreaded revealing the truth.

Having walked the length of the train and not met Jamie on the corridor, Lara gently rapped her knuckles on the compartment door containing Hogwarts' newest professor.

"Come in," called Neville from inside.

 _Let's get it over with._

"Oh Lara, it's you!" he exclaimed. "I'd wondered where you'd disappeared to."

Neville's face grinned at her and Lara found that she couldn't look away from him. There was something vaguely familiar about him, like Lara knew him already, but at the same time this feeling that coursed through her body was something different entirely.

Lara wasn't a stranger to flirtation with the opposite sex. In fact, in her home town it seemed as if a quarter of her old school classmates already had children themselves. Plus, when you consider that every school holiday as a Muggle-born she returned home as the exotic 'boarding school' student in the eyes of her former friends. Life as Muggle-born was often a complex balancing act filled with lies to cover up the magical truth, and the last summer Lara had taken a particular enjoyment in playing the Muggle. His name was Rick, he was a drummer in a local band and was studying to become a mechanic. As summer flings went, he had certainly helped to pass the time.

But this, this was unlike anything she'd felt with Rick. Call it magic, chemistry or whatever … she was certain there was a spark between her and Neville. And perhaps he felt it too.

Neville motioned that she should sit next to him (rather than opposite) and it was then that Lara noticed something horrifying.

"So I was just explaining to Burke, the Head Boy, that there were two professors on the train that he needed to introduce himself to, and then here you are," Neville beamed at Lara. "Mind you, I'm the new member of staff, I imagine you already know James here…"

"Oh she knows me alright," said Jamie under his breath.

Lara froze.

"Err, yes. I do know Jamie already. You see…"

Before Lara could finish her sentence, Jamie decided to do it for her.

"Lara? A professor?" Jamie laughed incredulously. "Sir, Lara's the Head Girl this year. See she's even got the badge to prove it."

Jamie stood up and walked towards the door, half opening it before turning back to the dumbstruck pair - his eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Well Professor Longbottom, it was great to meet you and welcome back to Hogwarts. Lara, I'll see you outside in a second."

Silence reigned in the space between them as Neville's eyes flitted from Lara's pained face to the Head Girl badge gleaming on her breast.

"Professor, I'm so sorry. I should …" she began to explain.

"… Yes, you should have." He interrupted tersely. "Merlin, I'm such an idiot. I can't believe I thought that you … that we might sometime … I think you need to go now, Hepworth."

Lara's eyes threatened to fill with tears, but she held her resolve and, with as much dignity as she could muster, left the compartment.

Jamie was lingering in the corridor outside, waiting for her to reappear.

"Lara … I'm …" he began.

"Don't. Just don't say anything to me."

He grimaced. "That bad, eh? Well come on, we best get on with it. We're nearly there now."

And with a sympathetic (and muscular) arm slung across her shoulder, the pair made their way down the train. This year at Hogwarts was certainly off to a rough start.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Impossible Love**_

 **Chapter Two – The First Feast**

With the Sorting Ceremony over for another year and a batch of wide-eyed first years sorted into their new houses, the start-of-term banquet had begun in earnest. Golden plates and goblets were filled and thousands of candles floated above the tables, illuminating the hall. The Great Hall had been restored to its former glory since the end of the Second Wizarding War, and the enchanted ceiling reflected the cloudless night sky.

Hestia reached across the table to help herself to more roast potatoes.

"So let me get this straight," she began as she piled more food onto her plate. "You pretended to be a Professor, flirted with Neville Longbottom and you're only just telling me this now?!"

Lara signed deeply.

"I didn't pretend to be a Professor … he just assumed and I didn't correct him," Lara explained. "And I didn't realise he was Neville Longbottom…"

Lara was interrupted by a disbelieving scoff from Hestia.

"Really I didn't. He just said he was called Neville, and I didn't make the connection."

Hestia raised her eyebrows at that and pointedly turned her head to stare at the High Table. Professor Longbottom was sat between Hagrid and Professor Flitwick; he was enthusiastically chatting to his former teachers and seemed to look anywhere in the Hall except at the Hufflepuff table.

"How in the name of Merlin did you _not_ make that connection?" persisted Hestia. "When McGonagall announced his appointment, it was all over the Prophet."

Lara had been pushing her food around her plate, unable to eat, since the conversation began. With a decisive glance up to the High Table, she placed her knife and fork together on her plate, incapable of ignoring the feeling of nausea that had been with her since the eventful train journey.

"Well that might have been the case, but my mum doesn't get the Daily Prophet. Muggle-born, remember?" offered Lara by way of an explanation. "I knew that he seemed familiar; I just didn't think it was because of his war hero status. I would have recognised Harry Potter - Neville was just so friendly and so … I didn't stop to think."

Hestia looked over her friend with a new curiosity. Lara's face was generally like an open book with her feelings written in bold ink all over it. Tonight was no exception. It was clear from her face that Lara felt intensely embarrassed by proceedings on the train, yet Hestia also detected something else in the face of her best friend…

"Oh. Wow. You actually _were_ flirting with him, weren't you?" Hestia's eyes widened in surprise at the realisation. She'd only been joking earlier on.

Lara half-grimaced, half-smiled.

"Yes, is that so bad?" she admitted.

"Erm, no?" said Hestia, with her voice rising questioningly as she sought to lesson Lara's feelings of embarrassment. "Look, I guess it could be worse. You could have done more than flirt with him."

Lara looked at her friend's smiling and mischievous face and laughed.

"Considering the second conversation took place with Jamie Burke in the compartment, more than flirting would be wrong on so many levels." said Lara.

Lara and Hestia were silent for a moment, whilst that particular mental image hit home. In unison, the laughter began, and the girls were soon gasping for breath and struggling to regain their composure. Their classmates, unaware of the joke, looked at them with bemused expressions until the newly-arrived towering desserts captured their attentions once more.

Having relieved some of the tension, Lara placed a slice of chocolate cake on her plate, resolving to try to eat something at least. She was about to place the first spoonful in her mouth when she sensed the presence of someone behind her. A scent that was woody and citrus and masculine filled the air.

"At least you're eating something now," Jamie said. "Although I'm not sure that could be called a balanced diet, Hepworth."

Rolling her eyes, Lara placed the spoon back down to her plate and turned around.

"Do you want something, Burke?" said Lara. "Or are you merely here to interrupt my dessert?"

Jamie smirked at her.

"There are a number of things that I want … but I'm just here to pass a message on. McGonagall wants to see us after the prefects take the students up to their common rooms."

"Oh. Alright. Thanks for letting me know," said Lara awkwardly.

Message conveyed, Jamie made his way back to the Slytherin table. He was aware that a number of female eyes observed his progress across the hall with interest.

"It's good to see that Jamie is his usual friendly self this year," said Hestia with sarcasm.

"Tell me about it," replied Lara. "The cheek of him to practically tell me I should eat healthier. We can't all be toned athletes like he is."

Lara resumed eating her chocolate cake with vigour. Nobody at Hogwarts got under her skin quite like James Burke did. During the last few years in particular, she never knew which Jamie she would be dealing with. At times he was almost sweet, but the rest of the time it was as if he couldn't suppress the smirking, vaguely sadistic side to him. He never did anything specifically to Lara. She just always felt as if he was trying to tease her and provoke a reaction, even when he was being nice. Lara had been trying to give back as good as she got, yet every so often it was as if Jamie switched the rules of their bickering and she felt clueless once again. Like today, there had been flashes of sweetness and swathes of arrogance. It was enough to give a girl a headache.

When everyone had finished eating, the desserts disappeared once more and Professor McGonagall stood to her feet to address the school.

"Before you head off to your dormitories for a restful night ahead of lessons resuming tomorrow, I have a few short announcements to make.

"Firstly, some of you may already have recognised our newest member of staff … I would like you all to extend a warm welcome to our new Herbology Professor, Neville Longbottom."

Whoops and cheers erupted at this announcement, especially from the Gryffindor table, as students craned to get a good look at their new teacher. Neville waved clumsily, looking around the hall at the sea of students in front of him. His eyes lighted on Lara, and his brows creased together in a slight frown.

"Secondly," continued Professor McGonagall. "Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Please see your House Quidditch Captains or Madam Hooch for further details.

"And finally, I am pleased to announce that this year's Halloween Ball will also commemorate 25 years since the end of the First Wizarding War, and we will be joined at Hogwarts by various Ministry officials to mark the event."

Excited murmurs greeted this piece of news as students speculated who would be in attendance.

"Now it is time to say goodnight," said McGonagall. "Prefects, if you could lead your Houses up to your common rooms…"

This was the cue which the prefects had been waiting for as they jumped to their feet to marshal students through the corridors and up to bed. The teachers also filtered out of the doors, leaving Lara, Jamie and Professor McGonagall in the Great Hall.

"Welcome back," said Professor McGonagall. "I trust the train journey was uneventful?"

"Erm …" started Lara.

"Yes, very much so, Professor," said Jamie in response.

McGonagall quirked an eyebrow at Lara's unusual bout of inarticulacy.

"I'm glad to hear it. Follow me," said McGonagall as she led the way swiftly out of the hall. "As Head Boy and Head Girl, you are representatives of not only your own houses, but the student population as a whole. You need to be approachable and accessible to students from Gryffindor and Ravenclaw as well as Hufflepuff and Slytherin."

They weaved through the now quiet corridors as the rest of the school settled in to their dormitories. They were on the fifth floor, and had just passed the statue of Boris the Bewildered, when Professor McGonagall came to a halt in front of an ornate door.

"In addition to being accessible to all students, you also need to hold meetings with prefects," stated McGonagall. "And you two need to be a team."

At this, McGonagall stared pointedly at the two of them.

"Professor, we know all this," said Jamie. "Is there something else you mean to tell us?"

"Yes, there is, Mr Burke."

McGonagall fixed her piercing green eyes on them and produced two identical sets of keys from her robe.

"This year it has been decided that the Heads of School will share a common area rather than separate accommodation," she stated as she placed one of the keys in the lock and turned it. "Welcome to your common room…"

She pushed the door open to reveal a large yet cosy room. Along the back wall, to the side of where they had just entered, was a great open fireplace with two comfortable tartan sofas in front of it and a soft rug covering the stone flags beneath. On the other side of the fireplace was another door with a key in the lock. The room was practically symmetrical if split down the middle of the fireplace, and each side also had a desk, chair, and bookcases as well as a spiral staircase leading up to a second floor. What was most breath-taking about the room though was the expansive window that faced them. The view stretched out from the shore of the Great Lake and into the bounds of the Forbidden Forest, with the mountains outside the grounds just visible in the encroaching darkness.

"We believe this space offers you both sufficient privacy as well as the opportunity to work closely in partnership with each other," continued McGonagall. "The adjoining room can be accessed from your living space as well as a separate entrance from the corridor outside. It will be an ideal space for meeting with the Prefect Team."

Lara's face told of her shock at this development. Whatever she was expecting Professor McGonagall to speak to them about, it certainly wasn't this. To spend her final year at Hogwarts in close quarters with Jamie was far from ideal. Although Lara did have to admit, the living space was beautiful.

"Miss Hepworth, here are your keys," said McGonagall, handing Lara one of the sets. "You'll find your things have been brought up to your room." She gestured to the stairs on the left-hand side of the room.

"Mr Burke, here are yours and again your things will already be up there," she gestured this time to the stairs on the right.

"I'll leave you both now to settle in."

McGonagall exited the room leaving the confused pair in her wake.

"Did you know about this?" Jamie demanded.

Lara was still trying to take in what had just happened and was running her hand along the mahogany desk to the side of her.

"No of course not," she finally replied. "I'm as shocked as you are. And none too pleased either."

Jamie was pacing up and down the centre of the room as if he'd suddenly been caged with his worst nightmare. Even his dark auburn hair seemed full of tension.

"Look," said Lara. "It won't be that bad, I guess. You've got your space; I've got mine. In between classes and duties and friends, we'll hardly be in here I bet."

Jamie stopped pacing and looked up at Lara. Then it was like the mask dropped back into place.

"Well thank Merlin for that," he said.

Without giving her a second glance, Jamie walked across the room and up his staircase. When he reached the top, he placed one of the keys in the lock and opened the door.

"Goodnight," Lara called up.

There was no response as Jamie slammed the door shut behind him.

Lara dropped her shoulders and sighed in defeat. If he was going to be like that all year, she doubted whether they'd last the year, never mind make a good team. Grasping the keys tightly in her hands, Lara climbed the left staircase to her room, hoping the bed was large and comfortable. Merlin knows, she needed a good night's sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Impossible Love_**

 **Chapter Three – A Taste of Things to Come**

 _A pair of firm hands grasped her by the waist, pulling her close to the planes of his muscular chest. Lara's fingers scraped through his dark hair, eliciting a deep groan from him as he kissed her neck. She tugged gently on his hair, and his eyes met hers. They were storms of inky blue with passion searing through them. He raised a hand to her cheek and inched closer._

 _When their lips finally met, the kiss started slow and languorous, but soon built to a heated battle for dominance. Lara grazed his lower lip with her teeth which was rewarded with a firm grip on her arse._

 _The windows of the greenhouse were lightly misted, and the air inside cool on their skin. Neville stepped forwards as they continued the kiss, forcing Lara back against a table. He lifted her onto the surface with a thud; his fingertips kneading her upper thighs. Lara felt a need inside her. No touch was quite enough. Neville leaned forward, temporarily breaking contact with Lara, as he swept aside the assortment of Herbology equipment which landed with a clatter on the floor._

" _Lara…" he urged in a low voice, pushing her knees wider as he stepped in between her legs and pulled her flush against him. The heat between them magnified._

 _Another thud could be heard, but this time there was nothing to knock off the table that could have caused the sound._

 _._

"Lara… are you up yet?" said an impatient raised voice.

Lara opened her eyes. She had been in the middle of a wonderful dream and was now experiencing the aching comedown that the most perfect dreams inevitably brought. She stretched her legs out under the covers.

"Seriously Hepworth, wake up," shouted Jamie through the door. "Class starts in ten minutes."

Lara sat up with a jolting realisation: the thud, as she was lifted onto the table, was in fact a knock on her door; the clatter of Herbology paraphernalia to the floor was another knock; and the voice, that called her name with such urgency and need, was Jamie's.

Feeling uncomfortable with what that voice did to her in the dream, Lara took a moment to regain the ability to speak. She looked at the clock on her bedside table. Its hands whirred round quickly making absolutely no sense to her. Sometimes Lara missed the simplicity of a normal Muggle alarm clock.

"Are you alive in there or…" called Jamie.

"I'm up," replied Lara hurriedly as she scrambled to her feet. "What time is it now?"

She could practically hear Jamie's eyeroll through the closed door.

"It's ten to nine, Sleeping Beauty. You best get a move on if you're going to get to period 1 on time."

Precisely 7 minutes later, Lara stepped out of her bedroom. With her uniform skewed and her hair dishevelled, it wasn't exactly the start she had planned for, but Lara had no time to waste on taming the tangled nest on her head.

Jamie held out a conciliatory slice of toast.

"When I didn't see you at breakfast," he began. "I figured you'd need this. Sorry if I was a bit of a dick last night."

Lara scoffed but took the toast gratefully, taking a large bite as she hurried down the spiral stairs with Jamie close behind.

"Bad dream?" asked Jamie.

Slightly panicked, Lara turned and raised her eyebrows questioningly as she tried to swallow her toast.

"I just thought I heard you moaning," said Jamie.

Lara gulped.

"Err no, not a bad dream," she fumbled as she picked up her bag. "We best get going. Defence Against the Dark Arts first, isn't it?"

Jamie followed her out of their quarters and into the corridor outside. Most students were already waiting outside their classrooms with a look of eagerness on their faces.

"Yeah, we've got Professor Weasley this year," he replied.

Bill Weasley had worked for Hogwarts for the last few years after seeking a job closer to his family. He taught a mixture of Defence Against the Dark Arts and Ancient Runes at O.W.L and N.E.W.T level, and students were always desperate to be in his classes. Lara had been lucky enough to have him for Ancient Runes, but never Defence Against the Dark Arts. She quickened her pace as they weaved through the emptying corridors.

"Hopefully we're not too late," said Lara.

The door to classroom 3c was already shut when they arrived. Jamie gave a half-grimace and pushed the door firmly open.

"… so these will be your duelling practice partners for the next term," Professor Weasley looked at the two latecomers and slightly shook his head. "You will not only test each other in this classroom, but also help to prepare each other for your final exams. Now that our Head Boy and Head Girl have joined us, you can begin. Let's see what you already know."

The desks in the classroom had been levitated to the sides of the room, and the other seventh years stood facing each other, wands out.

Professor Weasley approached Lara and Jamie, quirking an eyebrow at the state of Lara's hair.

"Now you're here, you best get on with it," said Weasley with smile. "Thirty minutes duelling followed by conflict theory for the rest of the lesson."

Flashes of purple and white light filled the classroom as spells were fired rapidly across the room. Occasionally the spells were audible, but most were nonverbal, meaning the outcomes were a surprise to the recipient.

Lara glanced down the two rows of her classmates to see Hestia, a blur of flashes and arm movements, duelling Akari Eto, a willowy, graceful Ravenclaw with straight black hair down to her waist.

"Are you still asleep, Hepworth? Or too afraid to take me on?" called Jamie from the opposite side of the classroom. His wand was out, and his eyes sparked.

Lara rolled her eyes. This boy never stopped.

"Bring it, Burke," Lara replied. "Let's see what you've got."

10 inches, walnut, reasonably springy with a core of unicorn hair, Lara's wand had served her well over the years, and today was no exception. A flurry of red sparks headed her way, which she blocked with ease before sending back a barrage of stunning spells with the odd Furnunculus curse thrown in for good measure.

"For. Merlin's. Sake. Lara."

Each pause was punctuated with a jab as Jamie sent spell after spell at her.

"Stop aiming for the face," said Jamie, with an elaborate flourish as he aimed a Full Body-Bind curse at her.

Lara blocked the curse and laughed. Of course, he cared about his face – he wouldn't want anything to hinder his pulling power with the female students.

The students continued shooting spells back and forth. There was the occasional shout of pain, or apologies, as each student tried to best their opponents. Stamina as well as concentration was required in this class.

"Wands down!" Professor Weasley shouted from the front of the classroom.

The duels came to halt, with the exception of Hestia and Akari who were still absorbed in a fierce battle.

"Smith. Eto. Stop." Weasley commanded and their wands eventually lowered.

Hestia made eye-contact with Lara and grinned. Usually Hestia and Lara partnered together, and Lara always felt like Hestia held back when duelling her, but against the Ravenclaw, Hestia had truly let loose.

"Not bad," said Professor Weasley, with an encouraging smile. "You're all fairly proficient, if a little predictable at present. We'll spend the rest of the lesson on conflict theory. Open your textbooks to page 17."

With a motion from Weasley's wand, the desks rose in the air and back to their usual positions. Lara made her way to the second row, taking a seat next to Hestia. Hestia's cheeks were aglow as she wiped the sweat from her brow.

"Bloody hell, who knew Eto could duel like that? I'm going to need a shower before Herbology," whispered Hestia before continuing with a giggle. "Good job you've not got Herbology with me though … you'd need a shower afterwards."

Lara's mind jolted back to her dream, the early morning visit to the greenhouses and Professor Longbottom's wandering hands. _His wandering hands and his hard …_ She blushed but ignored Hestia's dig.

The rest of the lesson passed quickly and soon the class were packing their textbooks away.

"Before you head off to your next lesson," Weasley announced. "All seventh years are required to attend a brief assembly in the hall now with Professor McGonagall."

On the way down to the Great Hall, Lara filled in Hestia on her shared living arrangements for the year.

" _That_ is the funniest thing I've ever heard," stated Hestia. "He's your duelling partner and flatmate? The poor house-elves will be cleaning up blood before Christmas; I guarantee it."

The Entrance Hall was bathed in light which twinkled on the House point hourglasses. Gryffindor had an early lead, but the diamonds in the Hufflepuff hourglass placed them in a respectable second place. Lara smiled to herself. _Maybe this year it'd be Hufflepuff's turn to lift the House Cup._

The students turned right through the imposing double doors into the Great Hall where McGonagall, some members of staff and the rest of the seventh-year students were already assembled.

"I trust you've all had a challenging and punctual start to seventh year," McGonagall began. "I've called you here as this was the first opportunity to speak to you all as a year group."

The students looked at each other, puzzled. This wasn't the norm was the first day back, and apprehensive expressions were on the faces of many of the students.

"It has been decided by both the Ministry and the Board of Governors that Hogwarts needs to change to offer students the best preparation for future careers and the competitive jobs market," continued McGonagall. "This year seventh year students will sit their exams a month earlier and will complete a month-long work placement at the end of the academic year."

Muffled whispers interrupted McGonagall's speech as the students processed the surprise news.

"Ah-hem," silencing the year group, McGonagall continued in her lilting Scottish accent. "The internship will allow you to explore a possible career as well as forge links with potential employers. The Ministry will be offering placements to students, and you also can seek your own internship from a private body. You will be representing the school but importantly yourself as you approach the end of your time here at Hogwarts."

McGonagall paused, taking in the general air of excitement around the hall. This was the biggest change to the Hogwarts' curriculum in living memory.

Lara clutched Hestia's arm as thoughts of being on the site of an archaeological excavation in Egypt or southern Italy filled her mind.

"In order to support you through this process, I will be allocating each student a mentor from members of staff," said McGonagall. "This will be a teacher who doesn't teach you at N.E.W.T level but will be able to offer insight and guidance in scheduled meetings across the year. They will be a valuable port of call in the decision-making process, and I trust that each of you will live up to their high expectations."

"The staff mentors will be announced at the end of day and your first meetings will take place this Friday. Now off to lessons with you."

McGonagall exited the hall, and the students excited chatter filled the silence.

"What did I tell you," Jamie said to a group of seventh year Slytherins. "My father said they were doing this. I just hope they give me a good mentor. I don't want someone without connections to mess up my chances of getting a placement in Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Mate, you're the Head Boy," replied Adam Nott, clapping him on the back. "Pretty sure they have to give you the placement you want."

Hestia turned to face Lara and smiled wickedly.

"Given your start to the year, I would put a galleon on your mentor being Professor Longbottom."

Lara went white.

"Don't even joke about it," she replied. "I don't know what I'd do. Apart from die of embarrassment of course."

The students made their way to class, each group buzzing with the news and their future placements.

However, Lara cut a solitary figure on her way to Ancient Runes. She thought she knew what to expect from seventh year, but so far there'd been so many surprises: the living arrangements with Jamie, earlier exams (which would mess up her already-planned revision timetable), the work placement and a staff mentor. As she weaved through the empty corridors, she paused to look out of a window down towards the greenhouses where Hestia was beginning Herbology with Neville.

 _If he is my mentor, at least I can apologise for the train misunderstanding, and then I wouldn't feel so awkward. That must be the reason for that dream._

Except Lara knew the dream was prompted by more than just feeling awkward. She hoped for her own sake that her mentor would be anyone but the blue-eyed, cardigan god who was currently elbow deep in snargaluff roots in the greenhouses.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Impossible Love**_

 **Chapter Four – Apologise Like You Mean It**

The apple-pie was Hogwarts' finest: a crisp, latticed pastry top, with caramelised sugar and cinnamon covering a gooey, juicy and warm apple filling and surrounded by slowly melting vanilla ice-cream. Jamie balanced the bowl on top of his Arithmancy textbook and knocked loudly on Lara's ornate bedroom door.

"What?" shouted Lara through the oak panels.

Jamie shook his head in disbelief and considered turning around, taking the delicious pie with him.

"Did you mean pardon?" Jamie enunciated clearly in his Oxfordshire accent.

He could hear Lara thudding across her bedroom and arranged his features into an expression of annoyance. Opening the door, Lara took in the sight of Jamie, looking like a waiter (not to mention the smell of the apple pie) and narrowed her eyes.

"What do you want, Burke?" she began.

"Oh that's bloody typical, that is," said Jamie with a shrug. "Here I am bringing you dessert because that midget blonde forced me to, and I get that response."

Lara relaxed her expression and gave Jamie an apologetic half-smile. Reaching out for the bowl, she gestured him into her room.

Jamie took a tentative step across the threshold. He was curious as to whether Hogwarts would still react as vehemently to a male student in a female's bedroom and braced himself to be launched down the spiral staircase. Surprising himself, nothing happened, and Jamie looked properly around Lara's room. Soft, yellow bed linen with a delicate floral motif covered the large cast iron bed. A mustard and black striped blanket draped over a rounded, velvet armchair that was positioned in front of the open window. In the corner of the room was a dressing table; its mirror festooned with white glowing flowers that winked in the gentle breeze. On Lara's bedside table was a picture, non-moving, of her and, who Jamie presumed was, her mother.

Lara sat cross-legged on the end of her bed, tucking her skirt under her knees as she began to eat the apple-pie.

"Sorry," she said, looking up at him through her thick hair that had fallen either side of her face. "I thought you'd come here to gloat -"

"What abo-"

"You know what about," Lara continued, pre-empting Jamie's interruption and motioning with her spoon for him to take a seat by the window. "Figured you'd find it hilarious that my mentor is Professor Longbottom."

Jamie laughed and then quickly stifled it when he saw Lara's outraged expression.

"Ok, I admit that it is _quite_ funny," smirked Jamie. "But I resent the implication that I'd ever come _purely_ to gloat."

All Lara could manage in response was a noise of incredulity as she ate a mouthful of delicious pie.

 _Pretty sure all you've done for 6 years is gloat,_ she thought to herself as she ate.

"I brought a side-order of pie with my gloating."

Jamie leant back into the velvet chair, draping an arm over the back of it. His confidence in all situations had always been one of the most irritating things about him. Lara supposed it was a consequence of being a pure-blood Slytherin whose family had ended up on the right side of the Ministry (with their influence largely intact) at the end of the Second Wizarding War. Not to mention, his athletic prowess as a star Beater. As a Muggle-born from Manchester, she didn't have anywhere near the same confidence, privilege or general wizarding life experience as Jamie.

"Why did Hestia send you up here with my favourite dessert anyway?" questioned Lara.

"This is your favourite?" Jamie said with fake interest. "I'm partial to profiteroles myself."

"Jamie."

Lara put down the spoon and folded her arms in front of her. Her patience for him, when he was in this kind of mood, was limited.

"Alright," he conceded. "I don't know. Maybe she figured it might help you get your appetite back."

"My appetite is fine."

"No, it's not."

"Yes it is," stated Lara emphatically. "I had a giant pile of roast potatoes, chicken, parsnips, gravy and some of Hestia's chips. Double potatoes isn't generally a sign of no appetite."

"But no dessert is," finished Jamie.

Lara rolled her eyes and scooped the last bit of pie onto her spoon and into her mouth. Jamie took this as a sign that it was safe to continue as she'd be unable to give him a mouthful if she had her mouth full.

"Look, I know after what happened on the train that you're embarrassed..."

Lara's eyes flashed upwards, warning him to choose his next words carefully. _Embarrassed? That's a massive understatement._

"But it's not a big deal. Just say you're sorry and that's it."

Lara wished it was that simple. Thinking back to the time spent in the compartment with Professor Longbottom, she was fairly certain that Neville would have asked her to get a drink with him sometime and help him settle in as a member of staff. To make matters worse, she knew that she wanted to get to know him further too. Obviously. Why else would she impersonate a professor? There was just something in his eyes that made her feel like she wanted her clothes to melt in a puddle at her feet. Definitely inappropriate thoughts to be having.

"Besides," Jamie continued. "He's a _teacher_. He's used to us lot doing stupid things. I'm sure he's probably already forgotten about it."

Jamie stood up and made his way towards the door. Lara sat on her bed, staring down at her hands – her mind deep in thought.

 _Maybe he has forgotten about it? Maybe I've imagined something that wasn't actually there? Maybe I'm a delusional witch to even think that he was flirting with me?_ Lara felt a surge of disappointment at the prospect.

A creature of habit … Jamie couldn't resist a parting shot at his long-time target.

"Well night night, _Professor_ Hepworth," called Jamie from doorway.

Lara clenched her fists and took a deep breath.

"I hope you fall down those stairs, Burke."

It was early evening on the first Friday back, and the Library was relatively quiet as most students hadn't received much homework yet. Lara was on duty, ensuring students stayed quiet and got to their common rooms on time. With a flick of her wand, she levitated a pile of books that had been left on a table and sent them flying back to their shelves.

Noticing a first year Slytherin about to leave a pile of Quidditch textbooks on their table, Lara strode over.

"Those need putting away," she stated simply.

"I've just seen you put some away with your wand," said the Slytherin girl, flicking her plaits behind her.

"And it's not her job to clear up after you, you little snake," Hestia rounded the corner, ponytail swinging, and glared at the first year.

"Hestia, leave it," Lara warned with a smile.

Lara turned her attention back to the arrogant 11-year-old in front of her.

"Put them away yourself. Otherwise you'll start off your time at Hogwarts by losing your house 5 points," said Lara calmly but firmly.

Eyes widening in fear, the first year collected the books and scurried off down the aisles.

"Honestly," Hestia started. "You have this power and you definitely don't use it enough."

Lara rarely felt the need to deduct points from other students. They generally weren't horrific and the threat of taking points off them would usually suffice. She continued to patrol the Library with Hestia alongside her.

"What's up?" Lara questioned – Hestia only came in the Library when homework got particularly bad.

"Ahhh, yeah about that…"

Hestia looked shiftily down to her feet as the pause lengthened between the two friends. Lara broke the silence.

"What is it?"

"Professor Longbottom wants to see you in his office in an hour for your first meeting with him," Hestia blurted out in one breath. "He asked me to pass the message on."

 _Shit._

The floor of Lara's bedroom was strewn with discarded clothes. She had finished her Library duty, practically skidded through the corridors back to the fifth floor and her room and had proceeded to empty her wardrobe. The skinny indigo jeans, which had been a weekend staple last year, had been the first casualty. Working up a slight sweat trying to wiggle in to them, Lara was frustrated to find they were an inch off fastening. She'd spent most of the summer in cute floaty dresses, so hadn't realised how much her hips (or more likely arse) had grown. Next on the reject pile was a forest green turtle-neck knitted dress: too hot and too Slytherin. The black capris were lovely, but every top that Lara wanted to wear with them seemed to show too much cleavage off.

Lara looked at her final outfit in the mirror. She'd settled on a mustard full skirt with white polka dots, a white broderie anglaise sleeveless blouse, tan belt and tan ballet flats. The skirt skimmed over her hips and stopped at her knees, and the top didn't strain the buttons over her chest. Modest and 100 percent appropriate had been her intention. She'd wished she could have worn the black lace midi dress that had driven Rick (the Muggle drummer / mechanic) wild over the summer, but the combination of off-the-shoulder with a thigh-high slit probably wasn't advisable.

Adding a swipe of strawberry lip balm, Lara left her room. Jamie was at Quidditch practice mercifully, so she didn't have to face his sarcastic comments on her way out.

Lara was soon outside making her way down to the greenhouses and Professor Longbottom's office. The sun was setting, and a few sixth and seventh years were still lazing by the Great Lake. Sounds of distant shouts for a quaffle could be heard on the breeze. It was a typically perfect Hogwarts evening, and, despite her feelings of nervousness, Lara was pleased to be back.

Herbology had never been Lara's speciality, and this was the first occasion she'd had to visit the professor's office. It was in the furthest greenhouse, and its windows were so filled with plants that Lara could barely see inside. Locating the door, Lara found it was slightly ajar, so she knocked and stepped inside.

It seemed like there were plants on every available surface: lining the windowsills, on the large desk at the end of the room, on the bookcase. Half the plants, exotic and bizarre, were unrecognisable to Lara, and she struggled to even find Neville amongst the jungle.

Lara's eyes were drawn to a movement close to the far wall. Neville was bent over repotting a small Fanged Geranium, and all Lara could do was stare at his tight khaki trousers.

 _Sweet baby Merlin. He should not be allowed to look like that._

She moved closer and prepared to clear her throat to alert him to her presence. Before she was able to, Lara managed to kick an empty plant pot, sending it rolling towards Neville.

"Bloody hell," said Neville, straightening himself up. "I didn't realise you were here."

Turning around fully, Neville wiped his hands on the side of his trousers. He was wearing khaki trousers and a brown check shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his elbows. The top two buttons of his shirt were unfastened, revealing a peek of dark chest hair.

"Oh, erm, sorry," stumbled Lara. "Is now not a good time? Hestia said you wanted -"

"No, no, it's fine. Just made me jump. Do you want a drink?"

Lara shook her head. A drink would have been nice, but she didn't want to prolong the meeting in fear of awkwardness.

"No? Right, let's sit down then," he said.

Neville strode towards the desk and grabbed a wooden chair from the side of the room, positioning it in front of his desk for Lara to sit on. She did so, and Neville took his seat opposite whilst rifling through some papers on his desk to find parchment and a quill.

"Right, Lara," said Neville making eye contact with her before hastily looking back to his parchment. "It'll help me to come up with some placement suggestions if you tell me a bit about your interests. Professor Weasley says you're quite good at Defence Against the Dark Arts? Perhaps something in that field?"

Neville looked expectantly at Lara. She felt both relief and displeasure that he hadn't mentioned their first meeting.

"I wouldn't say that's my favourite subject," replied Lara slowly.

"So you don't fancy a placement with the aurors? I know a couple of them, so could probably sort it."

 _Even I know which aurors you're on about there,_ Lara thought to herself.

"It's not really my cup of tea. Death and danger and all that," she said with a smile.

Neville laughed. Whilst he never actively sought danger, he'd been involved in a fair share himself when he was Lara's age.

"Ok, that's a 'no' to working with Harry then," said Neville holding her gaze. "You tell me what you want instead…"

Lara involuntarily blushed. She _wanted_ a number of things, but she doubted that was what he was referring to.

"My favourite subject is Ancient Runes," Lara began explaining. "If possible, something in that field would be amazing."

Neville jotted down a couple of points on his parchment.

"So it's a no to death and danger, but a yes to the already dead?"

"I guess so," replied Lara laughing. "Do you think I'd be able to?"

Lara leaned forward unable to repress her eagerness; Neville tapped his quill on the parchment.

"Leave it with me. I'll have a think and we can discuss it further next time?" said Neville.

Nodding her assent, Lara rose from her seat and smoothed her skirt. Neville took the cue and stood as well, walking around his desk towards her.

"I'll show you out."

The silence was awkward as they walked towards the door. It felt as if now the meeting had finished, everything else between them suddenly came to the surface. Neville reached for the door knob, opening the door towards him. He stood stiffly to one side so Lara could get past him.

Careful not to touch him, Lara walked through the threshold towards the darkening grounds. She abruptly stopped and turned around, nearly bumping into Neville who was close behind.

"Neville – I mean Professor – I just wanted to say, I'm sorry about what happened on the train," said Lara quickly.

"You don't need to -"

"I do. I don't know why I didn't correct you," _Lie. I know precisely why I didn't._

"It's fine. I mean, I was pretty thick to think -"

"No, you weren't -"

"I was," stated Neville. "It should have been obvious, but I got caught up…"

Lara wondered what Neville would say next, but he didn't finish the sentence. Instead, he changed the subject.

"I'll be in touch soon about our next meeting. Night, Lara."

"Night," she responded quietly, before heading back towards the castle in the advancing dusk.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Impossible Love**_

 **Chapter Five - Butterbeer and Chocolate**

It was the last weekend of September, and Hogsmeade was filled with students and shoppers enjoying the Autumn day. The leaves on the trees surrounding the high street were beginning to turn orange and red and brown, leaving a warm tinge to the horizon. Every so often, a stiff breeze would blow down the high street, loosening them off branches and sending them swirling down to the ground. Light grey with clouds, the sky blocked off the sun and left a distinct chill to the air as if the signs of Winter were already approaching.

Lara swung her shopping bag backwards and forwards in time to their footsteps.

"Thank Merlin my mum agreed to sending me some money for some new jeans," said Lara happily.

Hogsmeade wasn't exactly the fashion capital of the wizarding world, but Lara and Hestia had made the best of it. To replace the ones that no longer fit, Lara had managed to find a pair of high-waisted skinny jeans in a faded black denim, and Hestia bought a cute t-shirt with glittery baby mandrakes on.

"Butterbeer and chocolate?" asked Hestia, nodding towards The Three Broomsticks across the street.

"Oh go on then," said Lara, easily-persuaded.

The girls linked arms and crossed the road to the opposite pavement. They successfully weaved round an elderly couple and narrowly avoided the pavement sign advertising the latest edition of The Daily Prophet: "The Greatest Discovery of Our Time?" with a picture of dark-haired man gesturing with a flourish at the fields behind him.

Pushing the heavy oak door open, Lara and Hestia stepped into the warmth and noise of the pub.

"Grab that table and I'll get the drinks," instructed Hestia, pointing towards a table tucked in the corner of the room underneath the staircase.

Lara made her way across the room, having to stop once to ask an older red-haired man if he'd mind tucking his chair in a little further so she could get past.

She sat in the chair facing the room and surveyed the patrons. It was a mix of older wizards and witches and a few groups of Hogwarts students nursing butterbeers or cherry syrup sodas.

The Three Broomsticks was a whole world away from her local pub back home. The Elephant and Castle was grim by daylight, but once the sun went down, it was where all her Muggle friends went on a Friday and Saturday night. In fact, pushed up against a wall around the back of the pub was where Lara and Rick the mechanic had first kissed. The smell of stale cigarettes and the sounds of Bev from down the road belting out 'Because of You' by Kelly Clarkson on karaoke had set the scene. Lara was a bit drunk on white wine, and Rick a bit too eager with his tongue. She didn't know what half-bloods and pure-bloods got up to during their summer holidays, but somehow, Lara doubted it was that.

"Here you go," Hestia placed a foaming tankard of butterbeer down in front of Lara and a little bowl of chocolates.

"Thanks," replied Lara, popping a sweet into her mouth.

Silence descended as both girls savoured the delicious chocolate. The combination of the warmth of the pub, the chocolate and the butterbeer was perfection after an afternoon of shopping.

"How did your mentor meeting go with McGonagall?" Lara asked.

"Good, yeah," said Hestia. "She reckons with a strong enough application, and Professor Weasley's recommendation, that I could get an internship with the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Wow that'd be amazing," said Lara. "You think you'd be placed in the Auror Office?"

"Doubt it, but you never know … I could be rubbing shoulders with Harry Potter before too long."

Hestia swung back on her chair, drumming her fingers on the table top. Her blonde hair flicked across her face.

"Harry Potter and Jamie Burke too, I reckon given his _connections_ ," laughed Lara.

Hestia scowled at the thought of Lara's remark and brushed the hair from her face.

"Bloody hope not. Anyway, have you heard from Professor Longbottom since the first meeting?"

Lara sighed and held her head in her hands. Her thick waves fell down, obscuring her vision temporarily. Looking across the table, she tried to order her thoughts on the subject of Neville.

"Nope, nothing," said Lara. "He said he'd 'be in touch soon', so that's got to be some time in the near future, I hope."

"And you're sure you didn't stroke his leg or anything weird?"

Lara rolled her eyes at her best friend.

"I wish." _I really do._

Leaning back into her chair, Lara took a sip of her butterbeer. The first month of her seventh year at Hogwarts had flown by, but she felt as if the only thing constantly on her mind was when Neville would get back in touch. Incredibly frustrating. Even Jamie's regular digs at her seemed to skim the surface at the minute. _Why am I so bothered? He'll get back in touch. He has to – he's my mentor._

"… so I understand why Professor Weasley has set the task. I just wish I could have been given a different topic. I mean Grindelwald was powerful, but times are different now and I'd rather study something more recent."

Lara snapped back to the conversation, realising she'd missed a fair bit of it.

"Hmm?"

"I mean do you think he'd let us switch if we asked him? You take the rise of Grindelwald, and I'll do the First Wizarding War?"

Mentally filling in the missing parts of the conversation, Lara concluded that Hestia was talking about their research assignment for DADA. Professor Weasley issued students with different historical conflicts to research and present their findings to the class at the end of term. Apparently, Hestia didn't like her topic.

"Oh right, I guess we could ask him for a switch, maybe?" answered Lara.

Hestia shook her head and took a swig of butterbeer.

"I don't think it'd be worth it. He'll just say no, so might as well just get on with it."

Lara looked at her closest friend over the table. She looked sheepish, and Lara clocked onto the real reason behind Hestia's desire to switch topics.

"Do you happen to know what topic Professor Weasley gave Akari?" said Lara, raising her eyebrows at Hestia.

Hestia blushed, and avoided eye-contact as she replied.

"Oh erm, same as you I think."

"And could _that_ have anything to do with you wanting to switch topics? The thought of long hours sharing books with her in the Library?"

Lara waited patiently for Hestia's reply, chuckling to herself. Hestia had been single for well over a year since her previous girlfriend, Edith Thomas, a Gryffindor from the year above them, had broken her heart.

"The thought had occurred to me," said Hestia, with a smile.

Lara smiled too at the prospect of Hestia with a girlfriend. Neither of them knew whether Akari was gay, but Lara felt sure she'd witnessed a spark between the two of them when they were duelling in class. A spark beyond the ones that were flying from the violent flurry of spells each girl was sending.

The girls continued to chat, covering topics as far ranging as pros and cons of turning Animagus to the miracles that Muggle straighteners could perform on Lara's hair.

With the door bursting open, Professor Longbottom tumbled into The Three Broomsticks accompanied by a certain famous witch and a handful of leaves blown in with them. They were both laughing as her long knitted scarf had wound its way around his arm like a striped snake.

Lara gasped, and Hestia immediately turned around to see what see was staring at.

"Is that Professor Longbottom and – "

"Hermione Granger," finished Lara with a defeated sigh.

Untangling themselves from her scarf, Neville and Hermione headed towards the stairs and the private sitting rooms upstairs. Hermione's hair was sleeked back into a ponytail, and a few stray curls hung down, framing her face. She looked slightly tired but had a brightness in her eyes that masked it.

Sat in the corner of the room, unnoticed by them, Lara picked up her tankard only to discover it was already empty.

 _They only had eyes for each other. Of course he didn't see me. This fantasy has to stop._

"Wow, she's shorter than I thought she'd be," said Hestia, interrupting Lara's thoughts.

Blinking, Lara focused on her friend across the table instead of the empty space by the door.

"What?"

"Hermione. I always thought she was taller."

"Well everyone's taller than you, short-arse," quipped Lara.

"Ha bloody ha. I wonder if Ron and Harry are around and we've just missed them?"

"They seemed pretty touchy-feely to me," Lara said.

"Ron and Harry?"

"No, Neville an' 'er," said Lara, in an accent that betrayed her Mancunian roots. Lara's accent only tended to really show itself if she was upset, so Hestia looked concerned as she replied.

"Don't be daft, Lar," said Hestia, affectionately using her lazy nickname for Lara. "She's got a kid now – she's basically set for life with Ron."

"I guess so," said Lara. She tried to shake her feeling of despondency. "Wait until I tell Jamie that we've just seen one third of the Golden Trio. He could have saved himself hours of research on his assignment just by being in that room for a few minutes."

Jamie was one of the lucky few assigned the Second Wizarding War by Professor Weasley to research. Although it had ended 8 years previously, the consequences of the conflict were still being felt across Wizarding Britain as the Ministry sought to rebuilt society and the laws that united them.

Stretching, Lara stood up and reached for her bags.

"Come on, let's head back, eh?" said Lara, buttoning up her coat once more.

Hestia agreed eagerly but made sure they bought more butterbeer to stash in Lara's room for later that evening.

Following the brisk walk from Hogsmeade back to Hogwarts, both girls were flushed as they climbed the last set of steps onto the fifth-floor corridor.

Lara's black ankle boots were lightly splattered with mud. Thinking to herself that she'd need to Scourgify them later, she unbuttoned her burgundy wool coat to fish for the key to her and Jamie's common room.

"Come in for a bit, Hest?" asked Lara with mock puppy dog eyes. "Jamie's always out somewhere, and I'll just end up doing my Ancient Runes homework if you leave me."

"You love Ancient Runes."

"Yes, but I love you more. Come on."

Holding her bags in one hand, Lara turned the key in the lock and pushed open the door.

"6 … 7… 8 …"

Jamie was stood in the centre of the room with his back to the door. Topless, he was lifting weights and grunting with the effort. The sweat glistened down his trapezius outlining each defined muscle. Curling the weights, his biceps bulged displaying their strength. His neck tensed with the effort before he released and lowered his arm once more. The distinctive smell of a man working out and something that was uniquely Jamie filled the room. It was a veritable feast for the senses. Lara's senses anyway – Hestia looked vaguely repulsed by the sight in front of her.

"Bloody Merlin, Burke. Isn't there somewhere else you could be doing that?" challenged Hestia, with her hands on her small hips. "Like, oh I don't know, your room maybe? Anyone would think you were waiting for Lara to come back."

Jamie shot round with a look of surprise on his face. If the view of his back was good, then a sweaty James Burke from the front was something else entirely. Lara's eyes were drawn to his strong chest and downwards: his abdominals, prominent and visible; and a strip of hair that disappeared into the waistband of his shorts.

 _Well this is awkward…_

Forcing herself to look upwards, Lara realised that Jamie was smirking at her, knowing full well that she had just taken a few mental pictures of his body.

"Sorry, ladies," Jamie began, "I didn't think you'd be back at this time."

Lara dropped her bags to the floor.

"Oh we decided to come back and have a drink here," explained Lara with a false calmness.

Jamie bent over, placing his weights on the floor and picking up a towel from the arm of the sofa. Wiping the sweat from his face, he draped the towel across his shoulders and pulled his wand out from his shorts. Effortlessly, he levitated the weights upwards in the direction of his room.

"Well, don't let me stop you, Princess," said Jamie playfully. "I'm going to grab a shower and get out of your way."

With a wink thrown in the direction of the pair of them, Jamie sauntered up the spiral staircase to his room.

"Urgh, you can practically smell the masculinity," said Hestia grimacing.

She pulled out her wand, and delicately flicked, charming a floral scent throughout the common room.

"That's better," she said. "Right, drinks? Although I think I could do with a firewhisky after that display."

In response, Lara passed her a bottle of butterbeer as Hestia took a seat on one of the tartan sofas. Lara followed suit, kicking off her boots and stretching her legs across the seat. She decided that it was time to find out about her friend and the quiet Ravenclaw.

"So … Akari Eto. Spill the details," commanded Lara.

Hestia lobbed a cushion at Lara and laughed.

"Literally nothing to spill … yet," replied Hestia with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Anyway Miss Hepworth, who's caught your eye recently? Cough Head Boy cough."

Hestia waggled her eyebrows dramatically as she delivered the last statement.

"No. Just no," Lara retorted. _I can't exactly mention the multiple times your Herbology teacher has featured in my dreams though._

"Anyone then?"

"I've been so busy with this role," said Lara, waving at the common room. "I've not really been thinking about boys. Besides I think I'm done with boys … I want a man."

Now it was Lara's turn for her face to fill with a look that was pure mischief.

"Oh thank Merlin, for a second there I thought you were going to start hitting on me," laughed Hestia.

Not to be deterred by Lara's reluctance, Hestia began listing the positive qualities of the best boys Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had to offer. Lara had long since ruled out the boys from Hufflepuff. Having been out with Cameron MacPhail (Hufflepuff's Keeper) in fifth year, the rest of the boys were more like brothers than potential love interests.

"Honestly, I am more than happy by myself right now. It's much easier."

"Well I know what to get you for Christmas then," stated Hestia. "A cat, so you can fulfil your spinster destiny."

"Piss. Off."

Hestia chuckled and reached for the box of chocolates that they'd purchased earlier. Opening the box, she threw a couple at Lara's head taking her by surprise.

"Oi, less of that," said Lara, brushing chocolate crumbs from her tangled hair.

"With an aim like that, I don't know why I'm not on the Quidditch team," said Hestia, holding her hands upwards in celebration.

"Because you're terrible on a broom, that's why. Where'd they go?"

Lara searched the sofa for the chocolates. She located one down the side of her leg, and the other had managed to go down her top. Typical.

"You seriously need to stop feeding me up," stated Lara. "First apple pie delivered by good old Burkey, and then copious amounts of chocolate. I need zero encouragement as it is."

Hestia had just put a couple of chocolates in her mouth and struggled to respond.

"Mhat mou mean?" muffled Hestia, through the caramel goo. She swallowed before repeating herself. "What do you mean, apple pie?"

Lara swung her legs around and sat upright, smoothing her denim skirt across her thighs.

"You sent Jamie with some apple-pie to cheer me up?"

Hestia's face was filled with confusion.

"No I didn't. Or I haven't done that."

"You did," insisted Lara, leaning forward. "After I found out that I had Nev- Professor Longbottom as my mentor. He said you'd sent him with it."

Hestia eyes widened in disbelief.

"Nope, I'm a good friend, but not that nice."

"But why would he say..." wondered Lara.

"I think you know why, but _that's_ a question you need to ask him."

"Ask who what?" Jamie called down from the top of the stairs.

 _Shit. How much did he hear?_

Freshly showered, Jamie had changed into dark grey sweat pants and Tutshill Tornadoes t-shirt with two crossed beaters' bats across the chest. He made his way slowly downstairs whilst combing his damp hair with his fingers.

"Never you mind, James," said Hestia with a sarcastic tone.

Jamie plonked himself down next to Lara who stiffened in her seat. He reached forwards and grabbed a butterbeer.

"Mind if I – "

"Help yourself," said Lara quickly.

Hestia looked across at the Head Boy and Girl. Jamie swigged the butterbeer and promptly burped, causing Lara to roll her eyes and inch away from him, leaning onto the arm of the sofa.

"So, you're both girls, and I need some advice," stated Jamie.

"How observant of you, Burke," said Lara pleasantly.

"Obviously I have to ' _take_ ' you to the Halloween Ball," Jamie said, air-quoting the word take. "But who should be my proper date for later on? I'm thinking either Selene Greengrass from the year below or Aoife Byrne from Gryffindor. Which do you think I'll have a _better_ time with?"

"Urgh, you are revolting, Jamie," said Hestia.

"Why thanks," he replied with an arrogant tone. "I aim to please."

Lara was stunned. He could bring her apple pie when she was feeling down and wasn't such a dickhead about Lara pretending to be a teacher on the train, but then spoke about her like that and other girls like they were prospective notches on his bedpost. _Urgh Slytherins._


	6. Chapter 6

_**Impossible Love**_

 **Chapter Six – That Was Unexpected**

As the stone gargoyle descended, Lara tucked away her notepad and quill in her satchel and fastened the buckles. Jamie didn't bring a notepad and was leaning against the wall with predictable calmness.

"Only 29 days until the Halloween Ball, Hepworth –"

"Excellent counting skills there," interrupted Lara. "I can see why you do Arithmancy."

"I was about to say: do you think that gives you enough time to sort out a dress, a date, your dance skills and your hair?" said Jamie with a wicked smile.

Lara rolled her eyes. They'd just had a meeting with McGonagall about their roles at the ball, and the visiting Ministry dignitaries. In front of the headmistress, Jamie was all polite professionalism, but now he was back to his usual irritating self.

"Oh gosh, Jamie, I'm not sure. Do you think it'll be long enough for you to sort out your personality?" said Lara in a voice dripping with sarcasm.

Jamie laughed in surprise.

"Touché."

The Head Boy and Head Girl walked down the corridor in the direction of the Great Hall. It was time for dinner (or tea as Lara called it), and then they had a prefect meeting to brief the team about the Halloween Ball plans. Normally Hogwarts just held a Halloween Feast, but this year the school was holding the biggest event it had held in years. Students were buzzing at the prospect, and speculation was rife about the entertainment, the guests, the food and the rumoured later curfew.

A screech sounded from behind a classroom door.

Lara and Jamie looked quizzically at each other and approached the entrance.

"Ow, you stupid cat!" screeched a girl's voice from inside.

Opening the door, they stepped inside to be greeted by a strange sight, even by Hogwarts' standards. The Slytherin 1st year girl, who'd been particularly rude to Lara in the Library, was wrestling a tabby cat into what looked like a Muggle spider costume for dogs.

Jamie laughed, and the girl stopped in surprise, letting the cat dart off into a corner of the classroom with the costume trailing behind it.

"What in the name of Merlin are you doing, Rosier?" asked Jamie in as stern a voice as he could manage.

"N- n- nothing," she responded.

Lara ignored her and went over to the cat. With a few noises of encouragement, she managed to coax the cat out of the corner and into her arms. Disentangling the cat from its outfit, she threw the costume to Jamie who caught it deftly.

Jamie held it up and pulled a confused face.

"What is this?" he asked the girl.

"It's a spider outfit," she replied quietly.

"I can see that," said Jamie in exasperation. "What were you doing trying to force your cat into it?"

The first year looked embarrassed and tugged the sleeves on her school jumper over her knuckles.

"Greg and Francesca were teasing me about being rubbish at magic," mumbled the girl.

Jamie's face softened as she continued.

"I said that I could transfigure Bellerophon into a spider, because Fran hates spiders, and obviously I can't actually do that yet, so I was trying to get him into the outfit to trick them."

She had barely drawn breath during this confession and shot a look at the cat that plainly said 'traitor'. Bellerophon was now perfectly tame and enjoying the head scratches Lara was providing.

"Lisette, I've told you not to listen to them," said Jamie gently. "Stunts like this won't fool them and won't make them your friends."

Lisette Rosier blushed deeply and nodded.

Lara felt sympathy for the girl. Starting at Hogwarts was hard enough, constantly feeling like you weren't quite sure of yourself, without the added pressure of a family name like Lisette's. So much must have been expected of her before she'd even started.

"Here," said Lara, holding out the cat for Lisette to take. "We'll keep hold of the costume, and I think you need to come clean to them."

Lisette took the cat off Lara, nodded again and started to head towards the door.

"Wait," called Jamie.

Turning around, Lisette looked at Jamie.

"Don't let any thing like this happen again, ok? And come and speak to me if they're being nasty."

The girl left. Waiting for the door to shut firmly, Lara and Jamie finally released the smiles they'd repressed.

"Poor girl. Did you see the state of the cat in this costume though? Where did she get it?" chortled Jamie holding it up.

 _If I didn't know any better, I'd say it looks like it was from Amazon._

"Never a dull moment here," said Lara smiling, electing not to mention Amazon to the pureblood James Burke.

Jamie strode towards the door, only to hold it open for Lara to walk through first.

"Oh … thanks, Jamie," Lara said surprised at his old-fashioned chivalric nature.

Ahead, Lara could see Neville was heading in the same direction as them: The Great Hall for food. Jamie also spotted this and smirked.

"Look, Lara … there's your favourite –"

"Professor Longbottom," called Lara, loud enough for Neville to stop and turn around.

Neville was wearing a grey shirt with a maroon jumper over the top. His boots betrayed the tell-tale sign of mud, although his hands were freshly scrubbed clean. His face revealed a hint of nerves as they approached him.

"Ahh Lara, hello, James," Neville nodded to them both.

Lara decided she was tired of waiting to hear from him, and she figured now was as good a time as any to ask him about when their next meeting would be. Plus, there was something about arguing with Jamie that always fired her up to take no shit from others. Not that Neville was likely to give her any.

Tucking her hair behind her ears, Lara steeled herself and began.

"Professor, when's our next meeting going to be? I know you said you'd be in touch, but it's been nearly a month now and you haven't."

Stood next to Lara, Jamie's eyes widened at her bluntness.

"Oh … erm … yes, of course. I'm sorry. I … I meant to owl…" said Neville tailing off into silence.

Lara waited. She was determined to get an appointment time out of him, but she couldn't help think that his stumbling awkwardness was pretty cute.

"How about after dinner?" offered Neville eventually with an apologetic smile.

"I don't think I can actually do then. We've got a prefect meeting to lead this evening," said Lara gesturing at Jamie.

"It's fine," interrupted Jamie, "I'll lead the meeting, if you give me the notes you made. I know you've waited a while for this as it is."

 _That was an interesting little dig at Neville._

"Only if you're sure," replied Lara. Turning to Neville, she continued, "I'll see you after tea, Professor. Say about half 7? Perfect."

Lara walked off down the corridor leaving a slightly dumbstruck Neville and a bemused Jamie in her wake. On a whim, she decided to roll her hips ever so slightly as she walked, so that her body almost sashayed away, highlighting her curvaceous figure.

 _Go me._

Jamie jogged to catch up with her, still holding the spider costume. He looked admiringly at Lara, impressed with her display of sass. It reminded him more of the traits of his own house than her Hufflepuff origins.

"Merlin, Missy. Where did _that_ come from? I thought it was you who were about to give him a detention."

Smiling more to herself than to Jamie (who she chose to ignore), Lara was pleased with her confidence and felt ready to face Neville once again.


	7. Chapter 7

_**Impossible Love**_

 **Chapter Seven – Getting To Know You**

It was the start of October in the Highlands of Scotland. This meant two things: it was already dark and it was drizzling. Lara paused at the first greenhouse. Using the light that illuminated the path and the glass of the building, she checked her reflection. Her hair was loose and hung down just past her shoulders. The damp weather had slightly darkened its appearance and a fine mist of rain clung to the top of her head. She brushed her fingers through her hair, smoothing the baby curls that gathered at her temples. In the low light, her hazel eyes appeared almost black, framed by lashes coated with her favourite waterproof Muggle mascara.

Tightening her cloak around her, Lara set off for the furthest greenhouse. She was thankful that she'd decided to head back to her room and pick up her cloak, otherwise she'd resemble a drowned rat by the time she arrived at the Herbology Professor's office. Admittedly, Lara had briefly considered getting changed out of her school uniform, but she figured it would just seem odd given that he'd seen her a few hours earlier. There was nothing to conceal anymore; she was a student and he was a teacher.

A warm glow emanated from the last greenhouse, and Lara hurried through the damp grounds to reach it.

Whereas her first visit seemed to take Neville by surprise, this time he was prepared. Waiting for her in the doorway, he smiled and waved, ushering her into his office. Neville performed a quick drying spell that lifted the cold from Lara's cloak and took her slightly by surprise.

"Come on through," said Neville cheerfully, leading the way through the greenhouse and the vast number of plants.

They had passed the desk, where they'd had their first official meeting, when Neville brushed aside a screen of creepers to reveal a cosy room in the centre of the greenhouse, entirely walled by plants. Conjured in the middle of the space were blue flames encased in a fire pit. Their warmth filled the air and created a magical glow of light throughout. Around the fire pit, there were a couple of mismatched armchairs, side tables and a sofa. Neville had walked over to a little kitchen space in one corner and started to pour Lara a cup of tea from a brown teapot.

"I never even realised this was here last time," said Lara in an impressed tone.

"Most people don't," replied Neville, "And that suits me fine."

Lara unfastened her cloak and draped it over the arm of the sofa. Choosing the tattered ink blue armchair, Lara sat down and gratefully accepted the tea-filled mug from Neville. Lara took a sip and felt the warmth course down her throat and into her stomach. She took another look around the hidden space, noticing there was a single-bed, covered with blankets, pushed against the wall of plants opposite her.

"Do you sleep here?" Lara blurted out before she could stop herself.

Neville followed her line of sight.

"Not if I can help it," he explained. "I have a room up at the castle where I normally sleep, shower etcetera. I've only used that once so far, when the snargaluffs were being particularly demanding. It's not the comfiest night's sleep I've ever had."

Lara could imagine. Neville's tall frame would have had to fold itself to fit onto the bed.

Taking a seat in the other armchair, Neville placed his mug on the table next to him and leaned back, resting his inter-linked hands on his stomach. He was visibly more at ease than last time.

"How's your first month as Head Girl gone?" he asked.

Lara smiled and looked down to the mug she was holding in both hands. The sassy version of herself from earlier in the day seemed to have gone AWOL.

"It's been really good," said Lara, looking up and nodding. "There are some extra duties compared to last year, and classes this year have definitely stepped up a notch, but I'm coping so far I think."

"That's good," replied Neville. "You don't seem like the type to get snowed under."

Lara laughed. He could say that now, but come exam period she would be revising all hours she could squeeze in. The thought of sitting her N.E.W.T.s made her inwardly shudder with the pressure. Historically, Lara had done well in exams, but she didn't take anything for granted.

"What about you? How did you find being a prefect and the workload?" said Lara quizzically.

Neville supressed a laugh and rubbed his forehead with his left hand.

"I wasn't a prefect, so I didn't have to worry about that," he said.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't thi-"

"It's alright," he interrupted kindly. "When you're in the same year and House as Harry, Ron and Hermione, you don't stand a chance. Rightly so, of course. I … I wasn't the best at school, academically I mean."

Neville reached for his mug, taking a gulp of tea, and Lara felt like she'd put her foot in it.

"Well, you're a Hogwarts professor now, so you must have been pretty good," said Lara, trying to recover the conversation.

"Ahh I'm a Herbology Professor," said Neville, placing his mug back down on the table. "McGonagall isn't going to ask me to teach Transfiguration any time soon."

"Still, not many wizards can say they've worked here," said Lara, pushing the point.

"Fine. You win. I'm a genius," he said laughing once again.

Lara laughed too, and felt any nerves leave her. The easy connection that they'd had in their first encounter on the train seemed to be back. Truthfully, Lara felt like it was even easier as this time she wasn't pretending to be a professor.

"How are _you_ settling in?" asked Lara. "I should have asked sooner."

"Me? Great. I've always loved Hogwarts, and it's good to be back," said Neville emphatically. "Things were different last time I was here, but Minerva has done such a good job rebuilding the school – it feels like it used to again."

Neville fell silent, and Lara didn't know how to respond. The dramas of her school years were nothing in comparison to Neville's. She might have been a Muggle-born, but Lara knew how the Battle of Hogwarts had impacted the school. When she'd started as a first year in 2000, some of the visible traces of the battle could still be seen around the castle. Plus, it wasn't lost on her how vital a role Neville had played in that final battle: killing Nagini allowed Harry Potter to face Voldemort for the final time. The Wizarding and the Muggle world owed a lot to the man sat across from her.

"Even in my seventh year, with the Carrows torturing students given half a chance, Hogwarts felt like a home to me."

Lara's eyes widened. The Carrows were infamously brutal, and she knew that Neville had led the resistance at Hogwarts before the final battle had even begun. His suffering must have been immense, and it surprised her that he could come back so easily. She thought back to what she'd been through at home when she was younger. It wasn't anywhere near the same kind of experience, but for her, Hogwarts was a refuge.

"It didn't taint the place for you? The pain and the memories?" she asked quietly.

Neville looked searchingly at her.

"No … it still feels like home."

Lara couldn't find a response. She hadn't planned on this conversation, and she regretted even asking him. Hestia rarely got her to open up about this section of her past, yet Neville's relaxed manner, the magical blue fire and the walls of plants had seemingly disarmed her. What happened to her wasn't a unique event, she wasn't alone in the experience, but it was grief – raw and unpredictable.

"Don't you feel safe here?" questioned Neville, leaning forward in concern.

"No, that's not what I …" said Lara before faltering into silence.

Glancing down at her hands, Lara noticed how tightly they were clenched around the mug. To avoid potentially shattering it, she reached to the side of the chair and placed it on the table. Neville waited for her to begin again.

"It's not Hogwarts that doesn't feel like a home," stated Lara simply.

Memories of the summer of 1996 came back to her. She was only 7 years old, and yet the loss was like a deep void in her life. The chasm seemed to expand and contract depending on innumerable circumstances since then, yet the constant was that it was always there, hidden under the surface. Nothing ever felt quite the same again.

Taking a deep breath in, Lara tried to explain.

"My dad was a policeman, and I was 7 when he was killed whilst on duty. They'd been called to reports of a disturbance in an old factory in town. They didn't think anything of it … kids were always breaking in and smashing windows and lighting fires … but they had to investigate to see if there was anyone still there.

"When they arrived, it was empty. My dad's partner, Dave, took the upper floor and my dad took the ground. There were some scorch marks along the floor and walls where the kids had lit a fire, but no sign of them.

"They'd just called in the all-clear on their radios," Lara paused to wipe the tears that were forming in her eyes.

"The police said the kids must have turned the gas on in the kitchen area and done a runner. They never found what sparked it though. The explosion blew up half the factory. They were killed as they were walking out of the building."

Lara let the tears fall. The story was so familiar to her now, she'd thought it through so many times, that it still surprised her how much it hurt to say it aloud.

"I only know all that from the inquest. My mum let me read it before I came to Hogwarts. I'd asked her to let me read it before, but she wouldn't let me when I was younger.

"I love my mum so much. It's not that I don't want to see her and go home. It's just sometimes it hurts to be there. The house is still filled with memories of him. Hogwarts is the escape from it all."

Lara turned away from Neville and stared at the wall of creepers she'd entered through, trying to regain her composure. She'd never admitted to her mum that she sometimes felt like this; she imagined her mum probably already knew though and shared some of her feelings.

"I'm sorry that happened to your family," said Neville, reaching for Lara's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze whilst running his thumb across the back of her hand. "I'd say it gets easier, but there's good days and bad."

Turning back to face Neville, Lara nodded in agreement. There wasn't much else Neville could say. She didn't want pity or reassurances that it'd all be fine when patently it couldn't be.

"I lived with my grandmother when I was younger, and whilst it's not the same situation, I felt similar about Hogwarts versus hers. Think that's probably one of the reasons why I was so eager to come back here despite the war."

Their eyes connected, and both Neville and Lara recognised the pain in them. It felt as if there was a string tightening in Lara's chest, drawing her closer to him.

 _This isn't a good idea._

Not wanting to pry into Neville's childhood or investigate whether Neville felt the same connection between them, Lara thought a subject change would probably be best.

"Plus, you're a good teacher."

Laughing, Neville said, "How would you know? You don't take Herbology … a disgraceful decision on your part."

"Nothing escapes me," she said jokingly, "And you're such a good teacher you've already sorted my work placement?"

Lara's voice rose in hope, and Neville suddenly remembered the reason why Lara was sat on a chair in his private office space. He visibly shook himself and stood up.

"Wait here a second, I've got something to show you."

Neville left the cosy space, leaving the creepers swaying behind him.

Lara ran one hand through her hair – this wasn't how she'd pictured this meeting going. Firstly, she expected Neville to keep it brief like he had the first one, especially considering he hadn't exactly seemed keen to arrange it. She didn't expect to talk to him about her dad either but didn't mind that she had done. Lastly, Lara definitely didn't expect there to be a bed in the same room. Now she was left alone, its presence was particularly distracting.

She closed her eyes and imagined lying down on the bed, with Neville's weight pressing down on her.

"Look at that," Neville dropped a copy of The Daily Prophet in her lap. "Oh, sorry…"

"I wasn't asleep," Lara said quickly.

She looked down at the front page. It was familiar to her, and she realised she'd seen it in Hogsmeade with Hestia. The headline read: "The Greatest Discovery of Our Time?" and there was the picture of a dark-haired man with fields behind him.

"Have you heard about this? It's a dig down in Glastonbury. They think they've found some ancient remains going back to medieval times."

"Actually, I think I do remember seeing something about this, but it was on the news back home. I've not exactly been keeping up with the Prophet recently," confessed Lara.

"Ahh well, course the Muggles found it first. It's got some nasty enchantments on it though, so the Ministry got wind of it and sent in their guys."

Neville leaned over, pointing at the man in the picture.

"That," he began, "Is Michael Corner – a friend from school – he's open to the idea of you doing your placement with him in Glastonbury this summer. Well I say 'open', he's not said no yet. Wants the usual application, interview, test your knowledge, that kind of thing, but I think he'll say yes."

Neville beamed at Lara, and she couldn't help grinning back at him. This would be perfect for her.

"Thanks, Neville … I mean, Professor."

Lara's mind was whirring, going through what she knew about historic wizarding settlements in Somerset, whether there would be any relevant books in the Library etc…

"That's quite alright Lara, and I don't mind you calling me Neville … in here at least."

Lara's eyes couldn't help but flick over to the bed and back to Neville once more.

"I should probably head back," she said with a sigh and a smile.

They both stood up, and Neville reached for her cloak. Gesturing with his head for her to turn around, Neville placed the cloak softly around Lara. His fingertips grazed her shoulders and lingered atop the fabric. It was like they were burning into her skin, even through the layers of uniform. It seemed as if time had slowed as Neville's right hand trembled up her shoulder and caressed the bare skin at base of her neck. His fingertips circled her skin, moving towards her collarbone. Leaning slightly into his touch, Lara's breath got heavier, and she allowed her eyes to close.

As quickly as it had happened, Neville's touch was gone, and he coughed awkwardly.

"Do you need me to walk you back up to the castle?" he said, avoiding looking at her.

Snapping her eyes open, Lara felt embarrassment flood her cheeks.

"No, it's fine."

Without a second glance backwards, Lara walked quickly through the creepers and the greenhouse. She burst into the darkness and allowed herself a painful breath in and out before making her way towards the illuminated castle.

 _I can't believe I was so stupid._


	8. Chapter 8

_**Impossible Love**_

 **Chapter Eight – Study Sessions**

 _One of the notable features of the First Wizarding War was the extent to which Voldemort and his supporters sought to undermine the morale of the Wizarding community in Britain. Their campaign of terrorism was not solely limited to Ministry targets. Voldemort's so-called 'Death Eaters' targeted innocent families in the Wizarding World to help spread fear and passivity amongst witches and wizards terrified their family would be next._

 _Of the moves against Voldemort and his followers, the Order of the Phoenix (the resistance movement established by Albus Dumbledore) was arguably the most successful, yet it remained decimated by Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Its deceased members included Edgar Bones and Marlene McKinnon; they were not only killed in the fight against the Dark Lord, but their families suffered the same tragic fate in targeted Death Eater attacks. The indiscriminate nature of the violence left many wizards reluctant to join the Order and fight. Perhaps one of the most shocking instances was the brutal torturing of the aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom by the Lestranges using the Cruciatus Curse. Rather than simply killing the pair, the convicted Death Eaters chose to torture them into insanity; a crime that would see them all imprisoned in Azkaban. Their sentence would offer little comfort to the relations of the Longbottom family and their 1-year old son who was left effectively orphaned in the attack._

Lara stopped reading and brought her fingertips to her temples. Letting her eyes shut, she rubbed in slow circles and took a deep breath. She couldn't believe that she didn't know this about Neville already. She loved History and Ancient Runes, but prior to the DADA assignment, she didn't know much about the First Wizarding War beyond the basics that everyone knew. This would be the reason why Hogwarts was a place of solace for Neville. With such a trauma in his home-life, it was no wonder he had looked forward to returning each September.

Lara felt an immense sense of gratitude for her mum, Joy. Losing her dad had been tough, but her mum was the constant support for her. In Neville's case, he'd grown up without any of the normal experiences a son should have with his parents. Plus, Lara had a childhood of memories with her father alive and well – Neville's parents were alive, but every memory was tainted by the unforgivable war crime of those Death Eaters.

The textbook slipped out of her lap. Rather than the expected thud as it hit the rug beneath, Lara was more startled to open her eyes and see Jamie on his knees, arms outstretched, with the book in his hands.

"Here," he said, placing it on the sofa and taking a seat next to her. "You ok?"

Lara slowly nodded in response. She didn't feel capable of explaining to the Head Boy what had affected her so much, and she didn't think it was her business either to discuss Neville's parents with him.

"What are you even reading anyway?"

Jamie rotated the book to read the title: _Terror and Tragedy: The First Wizarding War Uncovered._ He raised his eyebrows as if surprised by her choice of light reading.

"This for your Defence Against the Dark Arts assignment?"

"Yeah, I've pretty much finished. Just doing a bit of extra research," said Lara with a slight shrug.

Jamie flicked to the contents page, scanning the chapter titles before him. He casually turned to a chapter entitled: 'Dark Magic: Objects and Artefacts'.

"Ah ha, let's see …" Jamie traced his finger elaborately down the page. "Fourth paragraph down – not bad."

Lara's puzzled expression was enough for Jamie to hand her the book and point to the offending paragraph.

 _Given Caractacus Burke's connection with Voldemort in the 1940s, it is no surprise that his shop provided a number of artefacts imbued with the darkest of magic to Voldemort in the 1970s._

Eyes widened in shock, Lara queried, "Is that your - "

"Great-grandfather. Or maybe he's my great-great-grandfather. I forget how many generations back my illustrious ancestor is."

Jamie glowered at the book. It wasn't exactly a connection that he could be proud of; most people would have been despondent at having such a relation on their family tree, and James George Burke was inclined to agree with them.

"Oh Merlin, Jamie. I think I sort of knew he was connected to your family," said Lara, shutting the book and throwing him a sympathetic glance.

Jamie forced a smile and replied through somewhat gritted teeth.

"It's fine. He's not exactly someone I talk about to my friends, never mind you Hepworth."

Lara mentally rolled her eyes. Of course Jamie was back to calling her Hepworth - did she expect anything else? It was clearly a defence mechanism for him. He always seemed to resort to using her surname at those moments where she had gotten too close to him. This year had seemed filled with those moments though. McGonagall had certainly known what she was doing when she'd placed the Head Boy and Head Girl in the shared living arrangements.

Jamie stretched back on the tartan sofa, filling the space with his muscular bulk. Wearing his quidditch training kit, his athleticism was never more apparent than when he wore his house colours. They clung tightly to his biceps and the outline of his abdominals were visible as he leaned back. He yawned loudly, hoping that Lara would take the hint.

Lara interrupted his yawn with a question, "Did anyone ever give you stick for having a relation like that?"

"Stick?" asked Jamie with a sarcastic undertone. "You want to be careful, Princess … your Northern is showing."

Lara was deeply tempted to hurl the textbook at Jamie's head, but she refrained just this once. The sight of his usual smirk brought back her self-control.

"Burke, we can't all have been born with a silver spoon in our mouths like you. I'm not ashamed of my accent, and I don't think you misunderstand my meaning either. You're just being a dick. As usual."

Drawing breath, Lara glared at him as if daring him to continue the argument.

"I love it when you reprimand me, sweetie," said Jamie with a devilish glint in his eye.

Deciding the textbook wasn't quite heavy enough, Lara swung her legs up and delivered a sharp dig to Jamie's thigh.

"Ow!" he yelped.

"Don't call me 'sweetie'," said Lara calmly. "Otherwise I'll start calling you 'a vitriolic snake' again."

Lara began to retract her legs, but she was halted by Jamie's firm grip on her ankles.

"Lara," he said with a deeper tone. "Your legs can stay there. I won't call you that again, so don't kick me. And to answer your unwanted question: no. No-one gave me any 'stick' for it. Least not to my face anyway. Plus, you know what Slytherins are like … half of them wanted to know what I had access to at home."

Jamie eyebrows rose meaningfully at her.

"And what do you have access to at home?" asked Lara, eyes twinkling.

His laugh barked out, "Nothing that dangerous. My dad distanced himself from the family before I was even born, and the shop's run by Borgin anyway."

Satisfied with his response, Lara picked up her book and continued reading. Jamie, with one protective arm over her legs, pulled out his wand and started practising non-verbal spells. Soon, several objects were levitating above the centre of the rug. Lara gave them a cursory glance, noting the assorted quidditch paraphernalia and, bizarrely, her hairbrush, floating in a figure of eight.

Jamie's thumb started slowly circling Lara's ankle like a mirror to her pulse. He seemed unaware of it though, solely focused on the objects he was keeping aloft, so Lara decided to leave him be and returned to her book.

"Did I ask you how your second meeting went with Longbottom?"

The objects had descended to the rug, but Lara hadn't realised, engrossed as she was in an account about Grindelwald and Voldemort's differing tactics.

"Oh, erm … I don't think so," said Lara. Her face flushed with the memory of the brief touch that had passed between herself and Professor Longbottom. "It was fine. I might be able to go to this archaeological dig in Glastonbury, looking at medieval British wizards."

"Riveting, I'm sure. Glad it's getting sorted tho-" Jamie jumped to his feet, sending Lara's legs swinging.

"How's it that time?" he continued in a rush, picking up the beater's bat from the rug. "I'm late for quidditch training. Catch you later. Don't stay up too late."

The blur of green and silver shot through the door with a clatter, slamming it behind him. Silence filled the room like a chasm, and for the first time in a few weeks, Lara wished she was back in the Hufflepuff dormitory with Hestia and the rest of the girls.

 _No point heading out now. This sofa is far too comfy to leave and wander down towards the common room._

Stretching out full-length, Lara summoned a blanket from her room and tucked herself in. Her DADA presentation was complete, but there was no harm in continuing to read around the topic. After all, she anticipated Professor Weasley asking them about their topic area once the presentation was complete, and she wanted to make sure he was as impressed with her in this class as he was in Ancient Runes.

Whether it was the warmth of the fire, the cosiness of the sofa or the nature of her reading material, Lara soon felt herself drifting off to sleep, with the book resting open on her chest.

 _A tall woman, with wild black hair, cackled mercilessly - her head thrown back. In the cot in the corner of the room, a baby with floppy dark hair and blue eyes stared transfixed at the twitching body on the floor._

 _Darkness._

 _A tall woman, with wild black hair, cackled mercilessly - her head thrown back. On the floor, a man, with blue eyes and dark hair, lay unmoving. A shadow of stubble around his jaw. Blood seeping through the jumper he wore._

 _Darkness._

 _A tall woman, with wild black hair, cackled mercilessly - her head thrown back. Leaning against the spindles on a staircase, a young, brown-haired girl was straining to hear the conversation in the other room._

 _Darkness._

 _A tall woman, with wild black hair, cackled mercilessly - her head thrown back. On the stairs, the explosion ricocheted through the girl, sending her body hurtling down. Green light. Tears._

 _Darkness._

Lara tossed and turned on the sofa – her dreams repeating with disturbing changes and unrelenting regularity – until she found peace and darkness at last.

Returning from quidditch training, Jamie smiled at the sight of Lara asleep on the sofa. Her hair was spread out in tangled chocolate waves on the cushion, and her lips were slightly parted. Observing the book, which was placed precariously on her chest, Jamie stepped towards her sleeping form. He made certain that his fingertips didn't brush her breasts as he lifted the book off her and placed it on the floor. A soft, quiet moan escaped her lips.

Not wanting to leave her there, Jamie decided to scoop Lara into his arms and carry her to her room. With his arms supporting her back and her legs, Lara's head rested against his shoulder. He breathed in the scent of jasmine and vanilla that lingered in her hair and walked towards the stairs.

Unbeknownst to Jamie, the movement had woken Lara. She blinked slowly, confused as to where she was, before gaining enough of her senses to speak.

"What are you doing?!" screeched Lara. "Put me down before you drop me."

Startled, Jamie did as he was instructed and lowered Lara's feet to the ground.

"Do you make a habit of picking up sleeping women, Prince Bloody Charming?"

Despite being freshly awoken, Lara's annoyance was clear to see. She was seething.

"Oh I'm sorry," replied Jamie mockingly, crossing his arms across his chest. "There was me doing you a favour. I think what you meant to say was thanks."

"I'm perfectly capable of getting myself to bed," she said with increasingly irritation. "I might not be as fit as you, but the stairs won't defeat me just yet."

"Glad to hear it," retorted Jamie before adding as an afterthought. "I wouldn't have dropped you though."

Huffing in reply, Lara ascended the stairs to her room. Feeling self-conscious that he'd just lifted her up and was now watching her arse, she hurried up the last few steps and slammed the door behind her.

Stripping out of her clothes and into her raspberry pink pyjamas, Lara clambered into bed, pulling the floral yellow duvet up to her ears. She felt tired in spite of her recent nap, and even though she didn't remember the specifics of her earlier dream, she knew it hadn't been a restful sleep.

 _I think I preferred it when Jamie called me a boring suck-up and hated me. It was easier to deal with than this version of Mr James Burke,_ she thought as she let sleep take hold of her once more.


	9. Chapter 9

_**Impossible Love**_

 **Chapter Nine – Ravenclaw vs Slytherin**

"Have you finished with that book, Lara?"

Hestia reached across the table to take the worn edition of _Confronting the Faceless_. Lara continued writing; her words looping cursively across the parchment.

The Library was quieter than usual as most students were enjoying the lie-in that the weekend brought. A handful of dedicated seventh years rooted themselves in the study areas surrounded by towering mountains of texts. There was an air of relaxed concentration that filled the space, and a low chatter which Madam Pince, in her old age, permitted on weekends.

Adding a full stop with a flourish of her quill, Lara looked at Hestia apologetically.

"Sorry, I was just in the middle of a sentence then. Done now though."

Chuckling, Hestia responded, "I'm surprised you've still got any work left to do. I've not seen you this week except for classes."

Lara grimaced and started packing away her work.

"My mum's last letter said the same. I reckon if she knew how to send a Howler, she would have done."

"I might join her," laughed Hestia, flicking a balled-up piece of parchment at her friend.

Lara stopped it before it reached her face and transformed it into a paper bird which flew into the waste bin in the corner.

"You've got me all day, I promise," said Lara. "Anyway, I hear you've officially replaced me with Akari?"

Blushing, Hestia said sharply, "What are you on about? She's only my duelling partner. Plus, the things I'd like to do with her would be nothing like what we get up to."

Lara wasn't expecting her comment to elicit such a response from Hestia, who was determinedly avoiding looking across the table and twiddling her blonde hair in her fingers. _Maybe Hestia had a bit more to reveal on this front._ Mentally filing away the reaction to bring up later, Lara changed the subject.

"I can only imagine. Just ignore me. Incidentally, that's what Burke's been doing since I yelled at him for trying to carry me upstairs."

Scratching her head, Lara pulled a confused face at Hestia who laughed involuntarily.

"What I don't get … is why he didn't just _levitate_ you upstairs?" pondered Hestia. "I mean, surely that would have made more sense for a wizard?"

Lara had considered this herself following the 'bedtime episode'. In fact, lying in bed, Lara had tried to erase the sensation of Jamie's arms gently holding her by coming up with a justifiable reason for his actions.

"Knowing Jamie, it was probably some macho show of strength, a continuation of Quidditch training … that sort of thing."

Hestia scoffed in response; a precise summation of Lara's view towards her woolly explanation for his behaviour.

"Speaking of Quidditch," began Hestia, "We best get going if we're going to get down to the pitch in time."

Placing her work into her satchel, Lara said sheepishly, "Errrm, I didn't think I was going to go today."

Hestia narrowed her eyes at her best friend. They'd attended most of the Quidditch games since first year together. The only ones they missed were when the weather was truly atrocious, and they spent the afternoon in the Hufflepuff common room melting marshmallows onto chocolate digestives.

"Get your coat, love. You're going," replied Hestia in a tone that invited no arguments.

* * *

Lara and Hestia joined the flock of students making their way through the grounds to the Quidditch pitch. The conversation was abuzz with who would win, how the two new Ravenclaw Chasers would perform and which Seeker would catch the snitch first.

Brushing her hair out of her face, Lara partly wished she was lying in bed with her latest tome on Ancient Runes, but she knew that Hestia wouldn't have been impressed with that excuse. Especially considering she'd barely seen her friend this week due to homework, meetings and Head Girl duties. Now that she was amongst other students, she accepted that this was where she belonged on this blustery Saturday afternoon. In fact, despite Hufflepuff not being involved in today's game, Lara felt the usual anticipation edging inside.

Unintentionally, Lara's outfit subtly represented the house colours of Slytherin. She'd layered a black denim pinafore dress with silver fastenings over a faded bottle-green woollen jumper. A grey long cardigan, black ankle boots and a black beret added to the effect. Lara had pinned her Head Girl badge to one of the pinafore straps, and its yellow Hufflepuff colours were particularly noticeable against the background of black and green.

"I've asked Emily to save us some seats," said Hestia, raising her voice slightly to be heard over the exuberant crowd as they climbed the stairs of the stand.

Squeezing past their classmates on the front row of one of the stands, Lara and Hestia enthusiastically greeted Emily Macmillan, a good friend to both for many years.

Emily's distinctive curly hair was tamed into plaited pigtails with a handmade knitted bobble hat, black and yellow of course, squashed on top. She looked like the epitome of Hufflepuff House.

"Best seats in the stand for you, Lara," said Emily with a wink.

"Ha thanks for the effort, 10 points to Hufflepuff," joked Lara.

The crowd's cheers roared out as the two teams made their way onto the pitch below. A line of green and silver and a line of blue and bronze stood facing each other in the centre of the pitch. The wind whipped their Quidditch robes around their limbs. Lara observed the eddying of Jamie's dark auburn hair as he rhythmically tapped his beater's bat on the side of his thigh.

With a sharp whistle, the game began, and the fourteen players rocketed into the air. The Slytherin Chasers took early possession of the Quaffle and immediately positioned themselves in an attacking formation. Darting up the pitch, the fiercely competitive Eloise Flint shot for goal – her attempt saved by the Ravenclaw Keeper who quickly passed the Quaffle to Fitz Stretton. A third year making his debut for Ravenclaw, Stretton flew at a blistering pace, swerving the defensive blocks and scoring in an impressive solo manoeuvre.

"10 POINTS to Ravenclaw!"

The blue portion of the crowd whooped and cheered as Fitz fist-pumped the air.

Lara's eyes found Jamie, intrigued to see his reaction to the third year's goal. Flying skywards, she wondered what he was doing. Jamie intercepted a Bludger aimed at the Slytherin Seeker and sent it hurtling towards the back of Stretton's celebrating head. It missed him by inches, and the crowd gasped audibly. Lara wasn't surprised to see that Jamie was chuckling as he flew off.

In a rapid spate of play, the score shifted to Ravenclaw 30 points – Slytherin 20 points. The Seekers had both come close to capturing the snitch, but careered into each other, neither one managing to get a hand on the ball of gold.

With the anticipation somewhat faded, Lara's focus drifted from the game. Slouching back, her eyes turned upwards to the thick grey clouds above. Lara's thoughts turned to her mum back in Manchester, and not for the first time she wondered how she'd managed to get so lucky. Magic was everything she'd ever dreamed of. If she was still a Muggle, she'd most likely be at college with the same friends she'd known since primary school, studying for her A-Levels, choosing a university, drinking to forget despite being underage and making slightly questionable decisions as a result. Compared to life at Hogwarts, the excitement of Quidditch and the feeling practically bubbling under her skin when she cast a spell, she knew which the better life was.

In her peripheral vision, Lara spotted a jet-black Bludger zooming in the direction of her stand. Along with the rest of the crowd, Lara ducked and the Bludger smashed through a wooden hand-rail at the back of the stand. With an arrogant salute in their direction, Jamie left no doubt in the crowd's mind which Beater was responsible for the wake-up call.

"What a pleasant Head Boy we have," remarked Hestia.

"Better than the Gryffindor alternative," said Emily who'd had a deeply rooted hatred for the prefect Christian Jordan ever since he'd called her a 'frizzy-haired Pygmy puff' in second year.

Feeling as if she was being watched, Lara scanned the crowd in the adjacent stand. Sat on the end of his row, and looking directly at her, was Neville. He wore a dark duffle coat and a Gryffindor scarf with a hint of tiredness in his eyes.

Neville mouthed 'hi' and smiled shyly.

"Slytherin equalise!" announced the commentator to the crowd.

Cheers (and a fair few boos) erupted at the goal. The Slytherins were chanting 'EL-O-ISE, EL-O-ISE, EL-O-ISE' in celebration of her successful shot at goal.

Lara's eyes, however, were fixed on Neville's. Mouthing back 'hi', Lara felt a blush rising on her cheeks, and a smile creeping on her face. Her anger at how their last meeting ended had faded. It was a combination of discovering what had happened to Neville's parents and realising how much he'd started to confide in her that softened her. She appreciated that whatever was going on between them (if anything was 'going on') wasn't straightforward and just wanted to find out more about him.

 _Of course, find out more about him encompasses a wide range of different activities,_ she mused.

Lara glanced to her side to check Hestia and Emily hadn't noticed her attention was elsewhere. The pair were deep is conversation about Ravenclaw's strategies with the Quaffle – oblivious to the borderline-improper conversation taking place next to them. Not everyone was ignorant of it though.

Lara thought Neville mouthed 'Talk'; a fact that was confirmed by a small gesture to indicate to the bottom of the stands. Nodding an affirmative, Lara watched as Neville rose to his feet and made his way to the stairs at the back of the stands. His dark hair disappeared from view as a flash of green and silver soared overhead.

Thinking on her feet, Lara nudged Hestia to get her attention.

"Need the loo," she said apologetically, getting to her feet.

"Ok," said Hestia quickly before bringing her eyes back to the game.

Lara picked her way through the Hufflepuff crowd and began to descend the wooden stairs to the ground. Half-way down, Lara paused and conjured a small mirror in the air. Checking her reflection, Lara smoothed her hair to try to tame the fly-away waves and wiped the corners of her eyes. The wind had caused her eyes to water, and there was a faint trace of mascara underneath her lower-lashes. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and her lips still held the swipe of raspberry lipstick she'd applied earlier.

Attempting to channel her inner vixen (rather than school-girl), Lara stepped down to the grass in between the two stands. She scanned the area around the two stands, looked up at the game and was momentarily puzzled by the absence of Neville.

A strong hand grasped hers and pulled her backwards. She stepped through a gap in the house banners which covered the frames of the Quidditch stands and felt her back hit a tall, solid, manly frame. Turning 180˚, she raised her hazel eyes to meet the gaze of the man before her. His stubble was slightly longer than the last time she saw him, and his navy duffle coat hung open, revealing a grey and black flannel shirt and dark jeans.

"H-Hi," Neville said in a low voice.

His eyes met hers and held eye contact. The space seemed to contract around them, and Lara was aware of the cedar earthiness that clung to Neville.

"Hi yourself," whispered Lara.

"Enjoying the game?" he questioned, gaining in confidence.

Lara nodded in reply and glanced at Neville's lips unconsciously. In the confined space under the stands, there seemed to be merely inches between them.

 _If I leaned forwards, we'd be chest to chest,_ thought Lara.

The temptation to close the gap between them was strong. Neville's eyes seemed to be waging the same battle with himself as Lara was experiencing.

Neville shut his eyes as he started speaking.

"I think I need to apologise for the moment at the end of our last meeting," said Neville finally opening his eyes to look down at Lara.

With an intake of breath, Lara took a step backwards, coming flush against a wooden pillar.

 _I don't want that apology. I want more._

"The – the issue is," he continued quietly again. "I don't think I w-want to apologise."

Neville looked deeply conflicted as if his confession almost pained him.

"My thoughts make little sense when I'm near you."

Lara waited in case Neville was going to continue with his speech. The gap between them seemed to have narrowed once more, but Lara couldn't say which of them had closed the distance. Neville raised his hand and caressed Lara's hair which rested above the curve of her breasts.

"Neville," Lara breathed out.

From the Quidditch stands, sharp screams shattered the moment.

"What was that?" they said jointly.

"That's GOTTA HURT," boomed the commentator's voice through the stadium. "The ref's motioning for a time-out whilst Burke receives treatment."

Swiftly stepping past Neville, Lara slid through the banners once more and was horrified by the sight on the pitch.

Jamie Burke was sprawled face-down on the grass – his bat discarded metres away from his motionless body. Madam Pomfrey hurried to the scene, along with a few students and teachers. Her wand moved in elaborate motions before levitating Jamie and walking briskly in the direction of the castle, with a handful of Slytherin students trailing behind her.

Stepping beside her, Neville questioned, "You ok?"

"He's _never_ come off his broom. What happe-"

Lara abruptly stopped as a group of Ravenclaws walked past chatting loudly.

"Wonder what he was staring at down here?"

"Don't know. Not like him to talk his eye off a Bludger though."

"Still, once the game restarts, we've got to win this if they're a player down?"

With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach replacing the excitable butterflies from moments earlier, Lara watched the diminishing figure of Madam Pomfrey and the suspended Jamie Burke enter the castle grounds and turn in the direction of the Hospital Wing.


	10. Chapter 10

_**Impossible Love**_

 **Chapter Ten – The Invalid**

Walking hurriedly into the Hospital Wing, Lara searched for what she feared would be the lifeless (or horrifically maimed) form of Jamie. She knew that Madam Pomfrey could fix even the most painful of magical injuries, but rational thought deserted her in the moment. Thankfully, her senses were greeted by the smell of antiseptic cleanliness and the sight of Jamie propped up cheerfully in bed: his muddy brow being wiped by Dottie Tryer, a Gryffindor sixth year, and Madam Pomfrey bustling around his injured leg.

Lara took a step backwards. She thought he'd be alone. She kind of hoped he'd still be unconscious. She wasn't prepared for the reality of the cosy little scene by the hospital bed, and she was more than aware of how heavily she was breathing, considering she'd rushed in a slight panic to get there.

Noticing her presence in the doorway, Jamie waved her over with a smile. He visibly recoiled from the loving ministrations of Dottie, who was about to press a warm towel to his forehead and dismissed her coldly.

"Thanks, you can go now."

A look of disappointment momentarily filled her face. Masking it with a flash of her perfect teeth and batting her eyelashes, she replied in a soft voice, "You sure? I don't mind waiting until after _she's_ gone."

The accusatory tone was abundantly clear to Lara's ears, but Jamie hadn't appeared to notice.

Raising her eyebrows disbelievingly at him, Lara said, "I can go if I'm in the way…"

"Yes," Dottie replied quickly.

"No," said Jamie a beat later. "Stacie was just leaving, and I need to ask you about something."

Lara quickly brought her hand to her face to cover her smile.

"It's Dottie," the sixth year said through gritted teeth.

"What is?" he said, without a trace of sarcasm.

With an indignant huff, the girl stood up and grabbed her coat. She paused, as if contemplating responding, thought better of it, and stomped out of the Hospital Wing, with her perfect blonde hair flying behind her.

Madam Pomfrey, who had been busying herself adjusting Jamie's bandage throughout this exchange, chuckled with mirth.

"Well Mr Burke, I'll be sure to send away any more female callers. You've clearly had quite enough if you can't remember their names anymore. Or did the bludger hit your head as well as your leg?" Turning to Lara, she added, "Miss Hepworth, you have twenty minutes then I'm afraid Mr Burke will need some rest."

Taking the rest of the dressing and the healing potion with her, Madam Pomfrey retreated to her office.

Lara sat in the seat vacated by Dottie and removed her beret, placing it on the bedside table.

"Well, how's the leg?" she asked.

Jamie rolled his eyes.

"It's fine," he said, wiggling his toes as proof. "What's not fine is that I cost Slytherin the match."

Lara shook her head despairingly.

"They were just about to resume the match when I left. Slytherin could still win," she added optimistically.

Jamie turned away from her and gazed towards the window across from him. The most skyward tips of the Quidditch banners fluttered in the growing winds. The minutes of silence stretched before them until Jamie finally answered.

"They won't. You don't win when you're a player down."

"You don't know that," Lara began consolingly.

"Stop!" Jamie yelled.

Lara flinched.

"If I'm lucky, we'll lose and lose quickly. Otherwise, it might not just be me in the Hospital Wing."

Jamie's pained expression turned towards Lara. She realised the truth behind his words. Quidditch games could turn nasty, especially a Beater down.

A muffled cheer interrupted the silence. Lara thought it sounded rather like a shout for Ravenclaw.

 _Why did I think this was a good idea? I don't know how to make this ok._

Eyes downcast, Lara attention was absorbed by her clasped hands and the fingernails which were digging into her skin. Loosening her grip, she inspected the small half-moon ridge marks left on her hands. She pressed her thumb over them and watched as the marks returned.

Jamie shut his eyes and lay back, "Sorry for shouting."

Tucking her hair behind her ears, Lara released a sigh she hadn't realised she was holding in.

"I should bloody well think so too, Burke."

Eyes still shut, Jamie couldn't resist succumbing to a creeping smile at the sound of his surname from her lips. They sat in peaceable silence, listening to the growing volume of cheers as the students moved from the Quidditch stands back to the dorms.

"What happened?" said Lara with a sudden need for understanding.

The smile left Jamie's face.

"Seriously, I've been watching you fly since third year," she persisted. "And I've never seen you fall off – "

"Were you watching me though?" Jamie's head snapped towards Lara.

"Wh-What do you mean?" she stuttered, unsure of where the conversation was headed.

"Simple question, Lara: were you watching me when I fell? Were you even watching the game when I fell?"

Lara broke eye contact and pursed her lips. The hesitation gave Jamie the confirmation he needed, regardless of what her answer was.

"I went to the bathroom. Alright? For Merlin's sake, Jamie…"

Still unable to hold Jamie's interrogating stare, Lara was relieved by the interruption.

"Time's up, Miss Hepworth," Madam Pomfrey hurried round Jamie's bed, inspecting his leg from all angles.

Jamie swung his leg out of her grasp and sat up straight.

"Mr Burke!" exclaimed Madam Pomfrey in dismay. "Lie back this instant."

"Nope. I'm going to my room," he said, ignoring her clucking noises of protest. "You're an amazing medi-witch, my leg is practically healed already and our Head Girl here is more than capable of helping me back to our quarters if I need assistance."

"I do _not_ approve of this," said Madam Pomfrey resignedly. "Miss Hepworth, do not let this headstrong fool put his weight on that leg. Do you understand? He needs rest."

Summoning a crutch from the supply cupboard, Hogwarts' finest healer positioned it under Jamie's left arm and moved Lara into position on the other side of her patient.

"Now, let's see if you can make it to the door without causing me heart palpitations."

The duo set off at a slow pace. Lara gripped Jamie's right hand on her shoulder and wrapped her left arm around his waist. Hobbling towards the door, Jamie's weight was distributed between the crutch, his right leg and Lara.

"Just about," conceded Madam Pomfrey. "Now do not, under any circumstances, try to levitate him or cast any sort of spell. Your magic will interfere with mine and will do much more harm than good. He walks like this or he stays put. Understood?"

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey," they echoed.

The pair began the hobbling journey back to their quarters without speaking to each other.

Attracting a few quizzical glances from passing students, they arrived at their rooms without incident, but both panting somewhat.

"Just get me to the sofa first, before we try the stairs," huffed Jamie.

Lara manoeuvred Jamie towards the sofa, depositing him as gently as she could. Wiping her brow, she plonked herself down next to him.

"For future reference, remind me to get Adam to help," she joked, nudging him with her shoulder.

Jamie stiffened next to her and didn't reply. Not knowing what to say or do, Lara stayed put and internally seethed.

 _I've practically bloody carried you from the Hospital Wing. I don't get why I'm getting the silent treatment here. It's definitely not my fault you fell off your sodding broom. Child._

"I saw you," stated Jamie.

Lara looked at him and pulled a face that plainly said 'please elaborate as I'm clueless'.

"At the game," he continued. "I watched Professor Longbottom mouth something to you. I watched you both leave your seats. I watched you disappear under the stands with him."

Lara started to try to respond, but Jamie stopped her.

"Don't tell me I didn't," he said angrily. "I know what I saw. Hell, I was so distracted a fucking bludger took me out. So, don't tell me I didn't see it."

"I … I wasn't going to," said Lara quietly.

Jamie looked searchingly at Lara, willing her to explain. She fiddled with the cuffs of her cardigan, the seductive confidence she had with Neville having deserted her when faced with the unintended consequences of their meeting.

"He needed to tell me something about my placement," she offered by way of an explanation.

Jamie scoffed, "Lara, you're a terrible liar. You don't have to tell me anything. Just … as your Head Boy, I'm saying you need to watch what you're doing. Weigh it up. Anybody could have seen. I thought you had more intelligence than that."

"There's _nothing_ going on."

"Yeah well I couldn't see through the banners. I just know what it looked like."

Lara blushed and looked away from Jamie. She didn't know what else to say. She was a monumentally terrible liar. The truth was nothing _much_ had happened between her and Neville. There hadn't been a kiss. Neville's affectionate gesture could be explained if needed. However, it was equally true that something could well have happened between them. Electing not to attempt to lie to a Slytherin again, Lara swiftly (and not so subtly) changed the subject.

"Right, Sherlock, come on then," said Lara finally. "Let's get you and your broken leg upstairs."

"Who's Sherlock?" asked Jamie dumbly.

"He's … it really doesn't matter."

With a few stumbles, an awkward grope and one very loud expletive from Jamie, they eventually made it to the top of the stairs and Jamie's bedroom door.

Jamie pushed the door open with the end of his crutch. His bedroom was predominantly white and grey with dark blue and green hues as accent colours. It was nothing like a stereotypical Hogwarts bedroom, resembling something out of a catalogue as opposed to a cosy, teenage dorm. Lara suspected an interior designer had a hand in the décor, but she didn't even know whether such a thing was possible. Either that or Jamie had the house-elves firmly on side.

"Minimalist chic. I'm impressed. Actually, this is weirdly too tidy," said Lara gesturing at the desk.

There was a silver desk tidy containing two quills, a pencil and some parchment. An intricate silver bottle, which Lara established was Jamie's usual aftershave. Plus, a photograph of three people in an ebony frame. Lara assumed this was Jamie's family and bent down to inspect it more closely. The man had the same jawline and imposing frame as Jamie, although his hair was darker and peppered with grey, and a faint trace of a smile lingered on his lips. The woman was svelte, wearing a black silk suit with smooth dark auburn hair, her expression uncompromising. The younger woman had a full fringe, dark shoulder-length hair and a beaming smile. She wore Doc-Marten style boots, ripped fishnets and grey loose midi-dress.

"Are these your fam-" said Lara, turning to face Jamie and stopping dead in the middle of her question.

Jamie had whipped off his Quidditch shirt and was hopping on one foot over to the dresser. It was simultaneously seductive and hilarious.

"Go on, use your words," mocked Jamie. "What were you saying?"

"Dottie Tryer is a _lucky_ girl," said Lara admiringly.

"Piss off," scoffed Jamie as he pulled a clean t-shirt on.

"Stacie is too," joked Lara. "Alright, I know where I'm not wanted," she added, raising both hands in defeat.

"Wait, throw me that crutch will you?"

Lara picked up the abandoned crutch and took it to him at the dresser.

"With my aim, this was safer," she said seriously, handing it to him.

Jamie placed one hand on the crutch and lightly pulled it closer, bringing Lara with it.

"Serious conversation now," he said.

"Do I need to make notes?"

Ignoring the dig, Jamie continued, "You've not bought a dress yet, for the Halloween Ball. I know you haven't because you've not been shopping since you bought those jeans, you've barely seen Hestia and you've spent a large amount of time in here or on duty or in the Library."

"Merlin, stalk much?"

"I live with you," he deadpanned. "And I have self-interest in the matter. If I've got to open the Ball dancing with you, you could at least try to look like a knockout."

Lara scowled at him. The dancing she was trying to forget. The dress … he had a point about though.

"So, I've arranged it all with McGonagall, you're going shopping," Jamie stated. "With my mother. Tomorrow. Have fun."


	11. Chapter 11

_**Impossible Love**_

 **Chapter Eleven – Three Dresses**

Some women had a knack of commanding the attention of any room they walked into. Constance Burke was one of them. With her signature auburn tresses slicked back into a chignon and a crisp white shirt worn over black cigarette pants, she oozed class and sophistication and looked perfectly at home in the London dress shop. Lara couldn't help feel that her dark floral skater dress had already been appraised and found wanting.

"Pleased to meet you, Miss Hepworth," said Mrs Burke in a cut-glass accent as she offered a handshake to the unprepared Lara.

Fumbling her bag into her left hand, Lara shook her hand and echoed her sentiments. She could see the familial connection between mother and son.

"James has told me a few things about you," she continued. "So, in the interest of this not taking all of my day, I've already requested a few dresses to be selected that would be suitable."

Lara was stunned and a little intimidated at her abruptness. Jamie's mother's formality and coolness were a world away from the warmth of her own mother. She wished her mum could be there, if only for moral support, but she couldn't get time off work that quickly to make the journey from Manchester to London.

"Of course, thanks for taking the time to help me, Mrs Burke."

"Constance, please," she dismissed.

From behind a white curtain, a rail of divine creations appeared, accompanied by a short Gallic wizard dressed all in black with a pale pink rose boutonnière.

"Constance, my darling. It is wonderful to see you," greeted the man in a lilting French accent.

"Gaspard, dearest, I'm so thankful that you could fit us in at such dreadful short notice," Constance replied and kissed him once on each cheek. "This is Lara," she gestured. "Lara, meet Gaspard Sigaut."

Despite being a Muggle-born whose idea of high fashion stopped firmly on the high street, Lara had heard of the French designer and was surprised he had left his Parisian atelier to be here in person.

"Oh she is a beauty, non?" he exclaimed as he observed her.

Lara found it awkward enough being spoken about like she wasn't even there, but Constance's silence made it all the worse. Would it be too much to politely agree with him? Lara didn't think so, but Constance remained tight-lipped.

With a click of his fingers, a team of witches appeared and bustled Lara into a large changing room with a luxurious chaise longue and gilded mirror within. He followed bringing an emerald green silk gown with him.

As if sensing Lara's discomfort, he whispered confidentially, "Don't worry about Constance. She's like that with everyone. James is everything to her."

Lara smiled with gratitude at his kindness and hoped that was all it was. Her own mother had been protective over her when she was younger, but the separation that Hogwarts necessitated had soon put paid to that. Joy had long since stopped trying to pass judgement on Lara's choices: be it friends, clothes or boyfriends.

Slipping elegantly down her body, the first dress was incredible. High necked silk, with a cowl back and a thigh-high split, Lara knew it suited her, but there was something niggling in her mind as she admired her reflection in the mirror.

 _I can't wear this. It's too green, too Slytherin. Jamie would be smug until Christmas and Hestia might poison me._

Gaspard presented her with a flourish to the waiting Constance, now perched on a plush Rococo style chair with a glass of champagne in hand.

Constance frowned as she looked Lara up and down. Lara waited with bated breath for the verdict.

"James is the Slytherin; this won't do."

Feeling some of the tension ease, Lara stepped back into the changing room and was helped into a bright yellow fishtail gown with silver jewelled accents that pooled at her feet. Clumsily, Lara moved to the mirror to look at dress two. It was beautiful. There was no doubt about that. However, Lara felt like it was someone else's beautiful. The tight fishtail made walking seem unnatural as it clung to every curve, and the vivid colour seemed garish in the lights of the shop.

"Hufflepuff colours, are better?" inquired Sigaut.

Taking in the tense, fidgeting Lara, Constance knew this wasn't the one.

"You don't like it, do you?" she asked Lara, with a note of concern in her voice.

Trying desperately not to offend, she replied apologetically, "It's not that I don't like it. It's a lovely dress. It's just … it's not quite … I mean I feel…"

"I completely know what you mean," said Constance firmly. "Gaspard, stop wasting time and just put her in the lace and tulle dress."

Lara was ushered back into the changing room and stepped into the third dress. She held her arms across her chest as she was laced into the bodice. It was a true ballgown. Layer upon layer of delicate pale gold tulle created a dramatic full, floor length skirt. The top layer of tulle though was black and this was matched by a pale gold and black lace bustier with trailing garlands of black lace which softly blended with the skirt. The deep sweetheart neckline enhanced her décolletage and off-the-shoulder, capped lace sleeves with dramatic black tulle ruffle completed the look.

Lara felt transformed. This was a dress that only magic could create. It seemed to move and sway of its own accord and felt as light as air despite the layers of couture detailing. The corset-fit cinched her waist tightly and emphasised, or rather exaggerated, her curvaceous full hourglass figure. She had never worn anything quite like this.

Radiating happiness, Lara faced Jamie's mother and prepared to fight for the dress if needed. She had no idea how she would afford it, but there was no doubt in her mind that this would be the dress she wore to the Halloween Ball.

For the first time that afternoon, Constance smiled at her.

"Perfection."


End file.
